


A Matter of Blood

by LateStageInfernalism



Category: Fantasy - Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Adventure, Fantasy, Mother/Son Incest, Multi, Romance, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:07:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 27
Words: 124,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28162917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LateStageInfernalism/pseuds/LateStageInfernalism
Summary: Finn, the youngest son of a magically powerful and intentionally incestuous family, must learn to survive on his own in a hostile world filled with conspiracies and magic, before a much deeper evil consumes all he cares about.
Comments: 11
Kudos: 19
Collections: LateStageInfernalism's Original Stories





	1. Small Beginnings

==============================================  
INTRODUCTION  
==============================================

If you've read my other work you will find this to be a bit of a departure. This is a novel-length work set in the fantasy genre. It is categorized as incest because all sex scenes are between family members.

Incest in this setting is not precisely taboo but nor is it wholly accepted. Nobles (or Purebloods) are expected to practice it to maintain the magical power of their lineage but even then the common folk regard it as not quite right. The drama here comes form politics and how personal things can get when your closest lovers are your sisters and mother and your romantic rivals could include brother, uncle, or possibly even your father. 

This will be regularly updated. While I cannot control the speed of approvals, I will be submitting at least one part every two weeks, and I have created a buffer in case real life interferes with this schedule. By the time you read the first part, the next two will be written. The final result should take around nine parts and 90,000 words to complete. This is designed to prevent the completely understandable issues that afflict the plans of writers when real life causes delays. Hopefully I will be able to avoid frustrating my readers.

Some content notes follow so no one is surprised by things that they aren't interested in or that might cause distress. I wrote this for the enjoyment of myself and my readers and I never wish to cause discomfort.

-All participants in sexual acts are eighteen or over.

-There are definitely erotic scenes throughout (about one per part) but they happen when appropriate and natural for the story, and maybe not often enough for everyone. 

-This story features one male main character with multiple female partners, all of whom are close kin. The relationships are still based on love but I understand that some prefer monogamy in their erotica.

-There are depictions of war and violence. They're not particularly gruesome, but they are there.

-Physical abuse is described in at least one scene.

==============================================  
PROLOGUE  
==============================================

When I saw the riders I knew I was fucked.

I was just moving out of the high desert of the Wastes. My horse had died three days ago and I missed him. He was probably my best friend, but also the going was slow. I was starting to see stands of pine and the terrain was changing to rolling foothills. There was less stone and dirt and more grass. Well, dead grass, anyway. It was the end of summer out here, and it was beginning to freeze at night. I hadn't felt warm in weeks.

I gripped my spear slightly harder as I heard the faint hoofbeats on stone. When I looked up I cursed myself. How had I not sensed them sooner? They certainly weren't being stealthy. They weren't rushing, but moving at a steady rate. Their scouts must have seen me, so they knew I wouldn't be able to outrun them.

I briefly considered altering my path and breaking east or west up one of the foothills, but distance was deceptive, and they weren't really steep enough yet to dissuade horse-bound pursuit. No. It was better to save my strength and wait.

The last of my hope disappeared as I began to distinguish them clearly. There were twenty or thirty, all armed. Too many for a patrol, no evidence of cargo or carts for a caravan. I recognized the banner. They were elite light cavalry. Men I had trained with, possibly. 

Well, today they were killers sent by my father, so I would have to fight. Surrender would not gain me my life, but might prolong my death. Better to die with a little dignity, maybe kill half of them. If I couldn't have the life or people that I wanted, then I could at least leave a story people told ruefully around campfires.

I drew upon the life of the air, and made it unstable around me. It was simple and crude, but no arrow would strike me through that. I wanted them to have to come close. To come within range of my spear and my magic. Both were lethal.

They came closer and slowed down. No one made a move to dismount, nor were any weapons drawn. I took my pack off and rotated my shoulders. I was stiff from all this goddamn cold and walking. People who tell stories about adventure usually skip the cold and the walking. I can tell you it makes up a good portion of my life, now. 

I took my stance, feet far apart, right side towards my enemies. Spear held lightly in two hands. It wasn't the best position for everyone, but experience had taught me that it was ideal for reacting quickly.

The lead horse rode out a little way and the rider took off her helm. I was not surprised to find that I knew her well.

"Kyrza. Its been a while," I said, smiling despite myself. We were going to try and kill each other shortly but it was good to see a familiar face. "You look well."

"It's Captain Kyrza now, Anprionsa Finn."

She used my formal title. She didn't have to, anymore. No one did. It was a kindness, showing me respect at the end.

"Good for you. I'm sorry that I'm going to kill you."

She smiled and laughed. I could forgive her this, she outnumbered me by at least thirty to one. But I knew their strategies. They would have one, maybe two mages. Enough to prevent me from doing anything particularly slow or spectacular, but I could still fight with quick invocations. I was never known for my power back at Marche Grodayn, so they would think that enough. Times had changed.

I had been killing with magic now for years. I had found that fear, sorrow, and rage were excellent teachers. As we spoke I tried to figure out how many I could kill with lightning before any could close with me. Kyrza was their leader, and probably the best with sword or horse, so she would die first, regrettably. Hard situations made for hard choices.

"Must we fight? You could simply come with us. We could talk around the fire as in old times and share stories."

Now it was my turn to laugh. We'd fooled around a little, back in the day. It was nice to have a bed partner when you were stuck outriding the frontier. She clearly thought that meant that I trusted her. Well, I suppose, in a way, I did. She was a good solder and I trusted her to act like one. Good soldiers used deception when it could make their job easier. 

"So I can be stabbed in the back while I drink warm wine and snuggle up to you? No. I think we both know how this ends. It's just a matter of getting there. I don't have a lot of pride left, but I'm not as foolish as I was."

Her smile turned to a slight frown, and for some reason she blushed a little in embarrassment. I don't know why. It wasn't uncommon for people to sleep together in the field. And I used to be a prince, and everyone knew princes expected things from their subordinates that others did not. I'd never pushed her, but there was nothing for her to be ashamed of.

"Come on, Finn. I'm not here to fight you. We're here to talk. Would I lie to you?"

"If it saved the lives of your men, you would. You'd lie to you former lover and poison him, I think, if not worse. You've always been a good leader. I don't hold it against you."

She was a bit frustrated before, but now she was starting to look worried. She briefly looked behind her, towards the center of her men. That would have been an ideal time for me to start killing, but even now, in my present state, I was loathe to start the conflict with deceit. Maybe I still had a little honor left in me. I resented it. It had never given me anything but trouble.

"I don't think..." she started, but I was tired of waiting.

"Enough talk. You've come for me. I'm here. Let's get this over with."

I began to draw in the magic of air and fire, feeling it build in my mind. I spun and switched my grip on my spear to one that I could throw with. It looked to be too large for me to do that effectively but many dead men knew better. I braced myself.

Fuck it, I thought, at least the survivors would remember my death.

"Really? You're going to throw your only weapon away? I taught you better than that."

It was another voice. A little higher pitched. Throaty. Feminine. Commanding. I recognized her too, of course. I even got an erection because my cock didn't really care how much trouble the rest of me was in.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," I said softly, "this is entirely unfair."

==============================================  
CHAPTER ONE  
==============================================

5 Years Earlier

"Wake up, you lazy fucking bastard," my half-sister said, but with love.

"I'll have you know my mother and father were married." I said, needling her about her mother being a concubine of my father. Not that she was ashamed of it. I certainly wasn't. I loved her and would have done anything for her. I still do, to my dismay. I opened my eyes.

Merwyd was there. My dream. I had no illusions about being worthy of her. I did not idealize her. No, I knew her flaws as she knew mine. But her importance to me cannot be overstated. I trusted all of my family, but her implicitly. 

Right now she was beside me, in my bed. Her dark red hair, already beginning to streak with white, was mussed and spread all over her pillow. Her form, petite and curvy was curled up next to mine. She'd kicked off her sheets in the night and was, unsurprisingly, nude. Her breasts were on the small side but they fit her perfectly. Her hips were wide and she walked with a little swing that I could identify from a hundred strides away. Her skin was like her mother's, ivory and with some freckles scattered over her to remind us that she was mortal. She hated her freckles but I loved to kiss them. This was where she liked to sleep when we were both home. Well, also sleep. Mostly, we fucked. 

Last night had been especially passionate as we'd not seen each other in four weeks. We were not exclusive to each other, but we were close to it. If father or my brother demanded her then she'd have to go to get them. But that didn't happen very often. Likewise if my mother was feeling affectionate then she had priority. And that did happen pretty often. I'm not sure how, but we avoided jealousy. I think that it was because when we were together we were completely focused on each other. There was nothing outside my bed. Or our arms really. We became each other's world. 

I had duties today and so did she. She was the premier magus in our family and as such she often travelled to study, investigate, and advise father on occult matters. He was no slouch at battle sorcery but his knowledge paled before hers. Her mind was, truthfully, what I had fallen in love with first. I think she fell in love with my sincere appreciation of her as my equal. Most men noticed only the sway of her hips, round face, delicate features and deep green eyes. I had a hard time blaming them, being lost in them at the moment. 

"What are you thinking?" she asked, biting her lip.

"This," I said, leaning into her and kissing her on her neck. She loved that. Last night I had been forceful enough to leave a few marks but this morning I was gentle and slow. She whimpered a little. 

"I have to get dressed," she protested, but her heart wasn't in it. If she asked me to stop, I would. She knew it and I knew that she wouldn't ask. She wanted me again.

"Brother, please, oh...oh fuck."

My hand had begun to explore her leg, then hip; then I slowly found her sex. My fingers gently passed through her soft red down onto her nub, already swollen and much more wet than I had expected. This accounted for her distraction. 

"I need you, love. I'm sure to be sent away again...and who knows how long this will be allowed between us? And you're already so wet for me," I didn't need to add that I was hard for her. She knew me well enough. 

I had, in my need, mentioned our situation's one glaring negative aspect. Something that we both feared but could not change, so we never truly spoke of it. Sooner or later our father, or elder brother, or even uncle would take her for either wife or concubine. And then she would be off limits to me, forever. In theory. 

Added to Merwyd's indignity was the obvious and oft spoken of plan to pair me and our youngest sister, Raisa. It would be true to say that I loved her, but it was not the right kind of love. Raisa was three years my junior and was always following me or her sisters around growing up, shy and adorable. I had not seen her in two years, when she was bundled off to train in temple service, as is traditional for a third daughter. We still stayed in touch via letter, however, and she had told me with obvious happiness she would be returning within the year. Merwyd liked her but for obvious reasons was not eager for me to marry her. 

In return her gaze grew somber for a moment and I regretted what I said. 

"I'm sorry. I should not have brought it up. It's just that being separated from you has been on my mind often lately. It leaves an ache here," I said, bringing my hand up to my heart, "that I find unbearable."

It may sound to you like rehearsed words or pillow talk. I did have a reputation then. I can only assure you that it was true. Merwyd believed me. She took my head in her hands gently. 

"If I am ever taken from you....I promise to come back. I swear it. I don't know how but please wait for me. And don't do anything rash that would separate your lovely head from your shoulders."

She ended her words on a wry note but that was no small promise. She had taken an oath to find a way to disobey the will of men in her family. I was moved. No one had ever such things to me before. 

Looking back I suppose that it was a day full of surprises. 

We moved together as one, our lips meeting with intensity, her tongue darting into my mouth. As we kissed I move my hand down and slipped my finger inside of her while playing with the nub of her sex with my thumb, gently. She moaned into my mouth and suddenly had to stop for breath, resting her forehead on my chest. 

I wanted to taste her that morning but we didn't have enough time. I rolled over on top of her and she parted her legs eagerly as well as adjusting her hips so I could enter her more readily. We were in alignment in all things from making love to making conversation. It was obvious to all who saw us together that we were in love. We didn't hide it.

I positioned the head of my cock at the entrance of her slick folds. She moaned and tried to push herself toward me but I drew back slightly. She pouted at me in her adorable way but I wasn't teasing. I wanted to draw this out as I was sure that I would be sent away "on training" again to some godforsaken place on the edge of the world. I needed to remember her. She kept me balanced. 

I pushed forward, meeting no resistance but still amazed at how tight she was around me. 

"Oh fuck. I love your quim, sister. I've never felt any better."

She whimpered in response and put her hands on my ass, urging me to fuck her. I obliged by giving her long, full strokes of my shaft. I was so familiar with her that I knew exactly how deep to go by instinct. I wasn't particularly large but she was small so I could hurt her if I wasn't careful. She loved to be filled just so and I knew how to alter the angle and force of my thrusts to hit all of her pleasurable spots. 

You might complain about the nobility but we Purebloods had libidos that went unmatched so we often became quite good at fucking. It was part of the reason why even outside of our family few of us ever had any trouble finding a willing partner. Although it was never as good as fucking kin.

As I fucked her I toyed with her breast and nipple, teasing the latter relentlessly. She was very sensitive there and she was whimpering with each tweak. I continued to ravish her neck as I knew she liked. Last night she had ridden me quite hard and had worn herself out. This morning I was more than happy to do most of the work.

"Fuck. Brother I'm close. I'm so close. I'm...."

Her words devolved into moans and cries of my name and her body tightened and shuddered underneath me while her legs locked around my hips. I knew that she must have been riding out a very powerful orgasm and it drove me over the edge. I began spurting thick ropes of cum inside her, over and over. There was a surprising amount given the prior night. I knew she took the Bride's Bane in her tea, so we didn't need to worry about a baby. 

I didn't leave her at first, but stayed there, inside her, meeting her eyes. It was different this time, deeper, more desperate. I knew she would be claimed soon, and I was powerless to stop it. She had the greatest breeding potential of any of my sisters, being the most proficient with magic. It sickened me that she would be treated like a mare at a stable, not just because I loved her. The idea of her being with other men bothered me, although I've never been overly jealous. You can't be in a Pureblood family. The idea of her being beyond my reach forever, on the other hand...I wasn't even comfortable with the dark thoughts that brought out of me.

I finally pulled out of her as she gave a final moan and rolled over onto my chest. I felt moisture there and knew that she was crying. She did so after intense sessions. She said it wasn't like that with anyone else. I believed her.

A knock at the door roused us both from our reverie. Despite not being prohibited from being here, father looked down on attachments forming between unmarried offspring. He could be wrathful, although he was more likely to exercise that wrath more upon me, the child of less worth. 

I felt the tingle of lesser magic being used and the door opened suddenly, the lock having given way, to reveal my mother standing there, looking as I imagine all mothers do when they find their sons laying about in bed with their sisters. A little exasperated, jealous, and aroused.

Well, maybe not all mothers. I've only had experience in a Pureblood family.

"Good morning, Aunt Syrlin," Merwyd said cheerily. They'd always gotten along. I think mother liked how the two of us meshed. Or she just found Merwyd to be the least objectionable woman to be fucking her son. Other than herself, of course.

"Good morning, niece. I see the two of you are exactly where I expected you'd be. Get dressed, son. Your brother is looking all over for you."

Ah, there was what I was expecting. To get a task from my brother. Some lonely errand, perhaps important, perhaps not. Something to get me out of the way so he could have Merwyd to himself. When I returned from one of these trips, I fully expected her to be married. I knew I was being naive and selfish, but it hurt. 

Merwyd saw my expression and squeezed my shoulder before she stood up and began putting on her own clothing. I looked at her, capturing her image in case I didn't see her for a few months. She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek.

"Love you, brother. See you soon."

She hesitated, for just a moment, and there was worry in her eyes. And then she was gone. That was the last I saw of her for five years.

* * *

Mother waited patiently for me to get cleaned up and dressed. She closed the door but didn't bother leaving. She simply stood, watching intently, as I clothed my nude form. She was at least forty, but while some men found women of middle age unattractive, I did not. She was of average height, full of figure, a complete hourglass. As some members of the older generation do when their prowess is proven, she regularly dyed her hair a glossy black, which I admit I found very appealing. Her lips were plump and her cheekbones high. Her eyes seemed blue from a distance but were truthfully more violet up close, when she was full of passion. I was fortunate to see her violet eyes rather often

"You are growing more fine with every day. You will be irresistible once you change."

I looked over at her, having just pulled up my trousers. She was referring to my rather plain tousled brown hair. I had never liked it. I especially didn't like it now as its dull color was a persistent reminder that unlike my siblings, I had not grown in magical depth since puberty. I was had gained skill and I took my lessons seriously, to be sure, but there was none of the power that my elder brother had. 

"I don't think that ship is coming to port, mother. Despite my excellent blood and best efforts," I said while pulling on my simple tunic, "I do not believe that I will be changing. At all."

I looked over at her and her face was flushed. Undoubtedly had there been more time I would have ended up servicing her, at least. She could be demanding but I loved her and was sincerely attracted to her. It was a small price to pay to make my mother happy.

"Nonsense," she said with a mother's surety, "Your father was the same way when he was your age, and just as unsure that his abilities would come to him. Only I had faith in him. It's part of the reason I ended up a wife and not a concubine. That and we care deeply for one another."

I knew my father had changed late, but I had no idea that only mother had believed in him. I shouldn't have been surprised. She believed in me, and I was generally regarded as a lost cause.

"Thank you," I said, honestly, "Although I don't think it will be soon enough."

I didn't need to clarify what I meant. She was well aware of my feelings for Merwyd. 

"Well, be patient. You never know what the future holds. Now, come. Whatever you think about your assignments, you have been noticed. I know your father and uncle are both impressed with your reports and the captains even speak of you without swearing now."

I laughed. The captains of the cavalry, the real commanders in the field, were given full reign to report on any Pureblood of the kingdom that served with them. To prevent disaster and incompetence. And no captain wants to be saddled with a shiftless spare son like me, even if I am charming, handsome, and dare I say it, occasionally insightful.

As we walked my mother got me caught up on court events, inter-kingdom politics with the mainland, and petty gossip. For her they were all interconnected, and I had to admit that she made an excellent diplomat. She would have been an excellent queen, but only Pureblood men were allowed to rule. So it had been for at least one thousand years.

"And that was when your Aunt Segaldia said, 'Enough of your feeble words!' and turned the table over. We had to pull her from the throat of the Dux of Northshore. It was most amusing, although not particularly diplomatic. You would have appreciated it. Like her daughter she is beautiful in a rage."

I'd never told mother about my relationship with Seigaldia's daughter, my sister Adewyn. At least not the romantic parts. She was my elder by a number of years, and was tasked to train me to use a sword when I turned eighteen. As it turned out, she taught me to use both the one in its sheath and the one in my trousers. There was love between us but mostly it was two people in isolation who were attracted to one another. It was...dubious, because everyone knew that, sooner or later, our eldest brother would claim her. Such liaisons happened, however, and I still felt great affection for her.

My mother stopped and it was plain that we had reached our destination.

"We're meeting here? In the sanctum?"

"It is a traditional place for matters of import. I...I'm forbidden to enter. If you're ordered to leave the castle please see me first. I miss you. And, of course, there are some things only a mother will do for her son..."

She smiled at me and walked away. She knew that I watched the swing of her wide hips. Despite the amount and intensity of the sex I had over the course of this morning and last night, I was still aroused. I shook my head to clear my thoughts then opened the door. 

I do not know if it was her intent, but I was definitely distracted when I entered the sanctum. Otherwise this might have been a much shorter story.


	2. Treachery and Desperation

==============================================  
CHAPTER TWO  
==============================================

I opened the door and stepped into the sanctum. This was a place of air and fire and men. No women were allowed here, and shrines to all the gods of the sky could be found lining the semicircular room. A large fire burned in a brazier in the center of the room, and incense-laden smoke warred with fresh mountain air. Interspersed between statues and icons of various kinds were tall windows, as wide as three men. They had no glass or protection of any kind, and were left open no matter the weather. I imagined the lower sanctum of the women was similar, but I had never seen it, obviously.

My brother was tarrying in front of the statue of Rennus, ancient god of lightning and fire and legendary progenitor of the Pureblooded. Undoubtedly he thought he was the second coming.

I do not wish to be unfair to my brother here. There are reasons why he was the heir besides being older than I was. He was taller than me, and his hair was the pure white of the totally changed. He was not the most powerful magus by any means, but he had fully realized his potential. He had the high cheekbones of his mother and sister. 

I do not feel ashamed to say that while I considered him a rival, I also considered him to be a friend. I held out hope that one day, if children came from their union, he might release Merwyd from her obligations as wife. As far as I knew she held no special fascination for him. Or so I hoped.

He turned. His eyes looked red from missed sleep, his face a bit gaunt. I was thankful that as the younger son my responsibilities would be similar to my uncle's: commander of cavalry, messenger, spymaster. Such had their own stresses but they could be nothing like my brother and our father had to cope with.

As I approached he turned and smiled at me.

"Do you ever come up here?" he asked.

"I confess that I do not. Aside from the ritual days, I spend my free time elsewhere."

"I don't blame you. I usually come here for privacy, to be honest. Sometimes, I look at Rennus or the other gods and wonder if they are still with us. It does not seem so."

I laughed.

"This is serious talk for early in the morning."

He laughed as well, although it sounded a little bitter to my ears.

"It is only early for you. Not that I blame you, we keep you busy, it is only fitting that you rest while you are home. But I was thinking of the story of Rennus and Uriel. Do you know it?"

I shook my head. I'd studied all of the history and legendry that my tutors had put in front of me, but I'd never even heard of Uriel.

"Uriel was Rennus' brother. He was named for a servant of the forgotten gods. He is forgotten because he opposed Rennus' plan to conquer the nations of mankind and put the Pure of Blood in charge. He thought that diplomacy and ruling from the shadows was best. In the end Rennus killed him."

I nodded, but the particular topic chilled my blood a little. I will confess that I am not always clever but even I had a hard time missing the subtext. He wasn't done speaking. He sighed, looking for a moment much older than his years.

"I don't want to be here, right now. I don't want to be asking this of you. I can't even be sure that...well, that doesn't matter. What I am asking you as your future king and as your brother is to publicly and permanently abdicate your status as heir and Pureblood. As well as any rights of breeding."

He added the last bit almost as an afterthought, but I knew that it was not. I didn't care about the throne, but after all I had done for my family, I was being asked to make myself nothing. And to give up Merwyd or Raisa. I wanted to ask why. To demand a reason. I should have. Instead I responded with a harsh laugh and a single word: "No."

"I'm sorry," he said, and after one more moment of blessed ignorance where we were brothers and friends and rivals, I knew I was fucked. 

I felt the dagger slipping in my back, once, twice, and a third time. It wasn't what I expected. It was painful, yes. My first thought, absurdly, was that this person was very skilled at this sort of thing. 

It was my knowledge of the simplest magic that saved my life. I was capable at spells at this time, although none would call me powerful. Father had told me that I would grow into my arcana but I had my doubts. Merwyd was younger than I and was far more powerful than I was. Having said that, I'd always been a fast learner, and was clever if not intelligent. Since I could not reach the deeper mysteries or force the greater invocations I went shallow and learned all manner of things.

One favorite was called the Wave of Chaos. It was used as a teaching tool, to demonstrate that no matter how capable you were, magic could never truly be controlled. It caused an object to expel force in random amounts and directions. The fact that I had decided to use it at all shows my desperation. It could have simply sunk the dagger deeper in my back.

I said the words somehow before the dagger reached my lungs, enchanting it. I felt myself propelled forward as if thrown by a giant and I crashed to the floor and rolled. My assailant was flung back into a wall and fell, unmoving. The dagger clattered to the floor roughly where it started. I could see in the dim light a trail of dark droplets leading from where I had started to where I had landed.

My brother swore and picked up the dagger. 

"You?" I said. I felt stupid and slow and weak. Things my brother had made me feel all my life, although not intentionally, simply by being my better at nearly all things. 

"It should have been over by now," was all Tyr said, "I am only doing what is necessary. I do not enjoy it."

He began to walk towards me with purpose. Were I strong and healthy I would have been unable to defeat him in sword play. Now, weak, losing blood, my organs probably damaged irrevocably, and unarmed, I would not last a minute. I saw the hate in his eyes. I was afraid. It made my decision much easier. 

I rose and he stopped, briefly. A cunning warrior, he did not discount the possibility that I had a stowed weapon or more magic at my disposal. I had no weapon and I could not focus well enough to bring forth the simplest of cantrips. Besides that, he would most likely be able to counter any invocation that I used. If he had not hesitated, he could have slit my throat. 

Instead I ran, well stumbled, really, to the window and jumped with as much force as I could. I heard my brother's shouts fading quickly. The waters of the High Lake were far below me, but right beneath of the wall. If I could clear the rocks that lay at the shore. If not, well, I probably wouldn't feel anything for very long. I tried to straighten my legs and put my arms at my sides. Then I was surrounded by rushing noise and cold, then almost silence. 

I was freezing cold. Numb. I could not move my arms or legs. I would die here, like this. It was the pain in my back that saved me, I think. It did not numb, for whatever reason. I focussed on it, and felt the rage of betrayal rise up in me for the first time. I had never been this angry before. It warmed me like a fire, better than any love could have. I swam and broke the surface, gasping, then awkwardly began to paddle away from the walls before anyone thought to have archers shoot at me. Soon I was lost in the mist of the lake.

Later I would take this as a blessing. The first of few. I have prayed at the altar of water nymphs ever since.

I paddled for what seemed like hours, but was probably only half of one. I would have died but I was skilled enough with an art that few bothered to learn. I drew power from the cold water's purity. It was of limited use to most people, but I knew an old way to replenish my blood with it. It was barely a trickle, but it seemed to be making up for my loss from the dagger. I felt a little rejuvenated and eventually dragged myself out of the freezing water. 

I had found this trick in an ancient scroll in father's library so probably no one besides me even knew it existed. I hoped that everyone came to the most likely conclusion, which was that I had died in the fall or drowned in the frigid deep water, although I doubted that anyone would accept it without a body. 

I must have passed out briefly because I came to in the freezing muck of the shore. I was filthy and cold and more tired than I had ever been, even on campaign or training with Adewyn. I drug myself out of the water and stumbled towards the lights off to my right. I had been swimming for them, but unsurprisingly had veered off course. This was the castle town of Marche Grodayn. Basically a home for the servants of the castle as well as several inns for merchants and visiting lesser nobility that did not warrant housing in the fortress. 

I looked back over my shoulder at the fortress Marche Grodayn. It stood high on a mountain, its delicate tower of sanctuary appearing to stab at the sky. There was only one path to it's gates, which made taking it by force nearly impossible.

Well, I suppose throwing myself out of a window did consist of an alternative way out, but I couldn't recommend it.

Before too long I reached the outskirts of the town. I knew people here. I was a carouser. And I had slept with a number of town women. It was expected of me. Well, probably more expected that I sleep with more acceptable "lesser nobility" like my brothers and sisters, but I found bawdy townspeople more my style.

I went to the back of the Hired Lady, which was the least fine of the lot. It was still higher class than most towns ever had, and would have done well in a city of the continent. My family ensured luxurious accommodations were always available for their friends, even those of the more common variety.

I banged on the back door, loudly. I could hear the raucous crowd clearly. There were arguments over the lists for the tournament next month. The professionals were coming to town and there would be a lot of betting. In the back of my mind I was saddened that I would miss it, either because I had escaped or because I was dead. 

The door swung open to reveal a buxom, yet swearing redhead. Thank god it was someone who liked me, most of the time. 

"Who the fuck is drunk enough to be banging on the back door of a the fucking..."

And then she stopped and her face paled, realizing who was there and that it couldn't be good news.

"Hey Sarah," I said simply, "I've had a bit of a falling out with my family, and was wondering if you might help me a little."

She grew somber and stepped outside with me, closing the door behind her.

"Oh god. Oh god, Finn, what happened to you? Don't answer. Don't. You know I can't hide you here, my father owns this place. It would me my life and theirs and by brother and his wife and their children. Oh god."

"Stop. I know. I need a horse. And some food or alcohol if you can spare it. If anyone figures out that I was here you can tell them that I forced you to do it, threatened your nieces and nephews. Something like that. I'll owe you and your family."

She looked at me, obviously torn. On the one hand my family could be ruthless and severe. We were kind to our friends but our ancestors had been big on impaling traitors. On the other hand Sarah and I had fucked quite a bit, before Merwyd and I had become something serious. I was still fond of her and brought her and her family presents from time to time. And I was barely ever a lout.

"All right. Take the brown 'un in the first stall on the left. She's fast and smart and has a lot of endurance. And if you let her go she's smart enough to come back to us. Stay here and I'll get you a little food and water. No, wine. You need wine."

As good as her word, Sarah came back with a sack and a skin filled with liquid.

"Thank you," I said.

"Don't be thanking me too much," she said, sadly, "If they come asking then I'm not lying, although I won't tell them which horse you took. I can tell them that you fed me some bull about you being in a fight with your brother and just needing to lay low for a few days, but even thats stretching it, given your condition."

I still smiled and then kissed her.

"Thank you, anyway. I don't blame you. If there's a reward for information, be sure to collect on it," and without waiting for a response I limped to the stable. Riding would hurt but I needed some space between me and my family. If I could get out of the mountains then I would be able to break for the coast, maybe Sondres, and get my bearings or leave for the continent.

I wanted to come back for Merwyd as soon as possible, of course. 

Of course I did. Fool that I was.


	3. Shadows and Salvation

==============================================  
CHAPTER THREE  
==============================================

I had made it out of the town of Grodayn. I felt every bump and jolt in the form of pain, and I tried not to think about the life leaking out of my back slowly. I rode west then took a game trail through some woods that brought me to the only other road out of the valley and rode east. It was weak deception, but I wasn't at the top of my game.

I rode all night, letting the horse navigate roads that were familiar to her. I passed by the eastern watchtower at midnight, knowing that as there was no war it would not be manned. I paused, looking down into the first valley, which stretched and spread out into the flatter lands until it reached the coast. There were dangers, real ones, of being out at night in the wilds, but that wasn't what was on my mind. 

As I looked down and saw the twinkling lights of villages and wisps about nasty business, I was aware, solemnly and with a sense of loss, that I was leaving everything I cared about behind. I knew that there was nothing I could do for my sister or my mother. Or any of my other allies for that matter. And that their importance would shield them more than anything I was capable of. They were smart survivors. And they would help me if they got the chance, surely.

Well, I was half right, anyway.

* * *

I rode down into the valley, taking the long route through a field that had gone to seed for many seasons. I was avoiding the parts of roads that went through villages, which required some long detours. I was also in a great deal of pain, and dimly aware that I was still bleeding despite my clever use of magic in the lake. Sooner or later, I'd have to fix it. I wasn't sure I had the craft or the magical skill to do so.

That was when I saw the building. As I grew closer I found it perfect for my needs. The roof had probably been wood and had caved in long ago, but a second stone story was present that still enclosed much of the interior. Our ancestors had built like this when they first arrived. Every building was a fortress back in the days that the Eldest's horrors still prowled everywhere. The first floor was big enough to stable my horse, and was probably used for that, while the second was where the people lived.

It's amazing the things you remember from your tutors when you are dying. I couldn't for the life of me, literally, recall any useful medical knowledge.

I barely avoided falling off of my horse. I pulled my bag off it as well. I decided, after some internal deliberation, to let the animal go free. It would follow its own path and hopefully return back to its masters. Partially I did so out of a feeling of duty to Sarah, and part of it out of the dim hope that it might lead the trail away from where I was actually headed. I was in many ways a typical youngest son of a Pureblood line: I tended to drink too much, indulge in women (well, prior to finding myself in love, anyway), and stay out too late. I was, however, different from the standard in that I had spent a great deal of time outdoors, riding with scouts, and I knew how to move with stealth and survive in wood and mountain. I would do better there if people were sent out in force to find me.

I stumbled into the small interior chamber, dropped my bag and then slumped to the floor, rolling over onto some ancient leaf litter and straw. It was softer than I expected, but I was also in less pain now. I felt very little, which should have been a bad sign. But I was tired, and I slept, fitfully.

I dreamed of horrors. I dreamed of revenge. I dreamed that I killed Merwyd and her child, and that I took pleasure from it, a righteous madness. I was relieved when I awoke.

For the third time that night, I was fairly certain that I was going to die. The knife at my throat seemed to indicate that clearly, but it did not move. I moved first, grasping the arm, thinner and weaker than mine and twisting in a way I was trained in many years before. I took the knife away easily, almost without resistance. As I held it I could see it was a thin, double-bladed dagger, a weapon for a professional killer. 

I stood with strength born of fear and pushed them back to the wall, pressing the dagger to their throat instead, ready to kill them. As I pressed them with my arm I felt the firm but yielding shape of breasts and I realized the she was a woman, or a girl. She was slender, but her curves were obvious now that I noticed, clearly athletic and proportional. She wore well-oiled black leather, with a hood and cowl to protect her identity. Her eyes were deep green, and I felt a sick sense of familiarity. I noticed that she wasn't resisting me as I pulled her cowl down.

"Raisa?"I said, my voice trembling with shock. Well. This was too much. My baby sister. The youngest, who had followed me around my entire life. Who had annoyed me and idolized me. Who I had protected from the awful parts of the world as best I could and who I cherished. Who I was supposed to marry. I knew that she had been trained, much as I had. I had been told that she had been sent to a temple of the gods, as was traditional for the third daughter. Apparently I had been lied to.

I dropped the dagger and sat back, heavily, on the floor. To stop her I'd have to kill her. Binding her in rope would not be enough if she had been taught by the Seyla, traditional assassins of the nobility. She could almost certainly escape from them. The choice was simple: her death or mine. I chose mine.

"Go on," I said, my voice heavy with fatigue, "Do what you have to."

She stood for a moment, arms clasped anxiously in front of her, and I saw her as she was. Young, inexperienced, nervous to please, shy. Maybe father had sent her away to learn dark things, but in that posture I still knew her to be my good little sister and that her hesitation was born of her love for me. I had made the right choice, maybe the first truly good decision of my life.

She bent down and picked up the dagger, but quickly sheathed it, as if its presence offended her. Then she sat primly on the floor next to me. I blinked in surprise as I felt her head resting on my shoulder. It was just as we always sat together, especially after a long day. It was not unusual for her to fall asleep in that fashion.

I chuckled and put my arm around her, just as in the old days. If I was going to die tonight, at least it would be with someone familiar. The thought was comforting, which I suppose shows how low my hopes had dropped. 

"Brother, why does father want...want you to die?"

Her voice was only a little deeper than when she left, and it was full of worry. I felt her body shaking as I pulled her into me and she seemed near to tears.

"I don't know. I don't even know if he really does. I only know that Tyr had me ambushed and when that failed tried to kill me himself. His eyes were so full of hate. I've never seen him like that before. After I was stabbed I jumped out of the sanctuary into the lake. I'm not sure how I survived that."

"St...stabbed? You've been stabbed? Where?"

Her evident surprise made it clear that she was not the assailant who had ambushed me. She began to prod and look at my torso, although in the dim light I didn't understand how she hoped to see anything. Finally, her probing fingers found the spot, and she must have felt the wet stickiness of my blood. I gasped and tensed in pain as she did.

"Nonono..." She said, as if it were a prayer. I was pretty certain I was done for but her small but strong hands pushed me off the wall and lay me down on my front. I couldn't have resisted her if I tried. 

She carefully and precisely cut my shirt away near the wound, pulling it away gently. It hurt, but I knew it would have been much worse if someone less sure would have done it.

"They trained us at the Chapel Tenebreum to heal. A bit. I'm going to help you as best I can, all right? This...this isn't temple healing. It's going to hurt a great deal."

Even though she was worried I was impressed with her confidence. I could sense that although she was still my baby sister, she was now a woman, maybe one who had killed before. I could see why they might want to pair a Seyla-trained bride with a son trained in cavalry tactics, politics, and scouting. I wondered what changed my family's mind about me and made them think that I needed to be eliminated?

All of these thoughts were lost in a searing pain radiating from my wound. I'd never felt anything like it but it felt as though she had just rammed a red hot poker inside of it. My jaw locked, my body tensed, and my vision turned white. Then, thankfully, I passed out.

* * *

When I awoke, I could tell that a some time had passed. The orange light of late morning reflected off the floating dust in the old ruin. I was still laying on my front, but Raisa had folded my cloak and put it under my head. As I groggily rose to my knees I saw a small flask laying on a few folded sheets of torn paper. 

I picked up the flask, it was small, ceramic, with a cork stopper. The papers were covered in crude but legible script, written with charcoal or something similar. 

Finn,

Drink what's in the flask. It's something that the Seyla use get rid of fatigue.

I hid the evidence that you made it out of the lake. Sarah won't be able to tell anyone, and I'll make sure the horse gets back. When father asks me about you I'm going to tell him that I didn't find any trace of you. I've never lied to him before so I hope I do ok. If I don't I guess that he'll kill me so I'm sorry if that happens. I'm better at lying now so I'll probably get away with it, though.

I saved your life, and you owe me. I'm not trying to be mean, but that's how I see it. You have to give me whatever I want. 

I want you to give me everything you give to Merwyd. I think you understand. I can still help you more if you let me. I'll find you again as soon as I can.

I Love You,

Raisa

The plain but sincere language was exactly the way Raisa wrote. God. I had no idea that she felt that strongly about me. I thought back for a moment and wondered if I had acted to lead her on.

I was also very concerned by what she meant by 'Sarah won't be able to tell anyone'. Later Raisa would tell me that she'd used a poison that had made her sick for a few days and made her lose all memory of the prior week. Better than being killed, I suppose.

I thought about whether my father truly thought me dead. Well, now wasn't the time to worry about it. If she ever found me again, we could talk then. For now, I had to assume that Raisa was both truthful and correct. I was, in the eyes of my family, dead. I needed a place to think and plan and prepare. And probably hire some scurrilous sorts to do some bad things on my behalf. 

I am embarrassed by the naiveté my younger self. At how easy I thought it would be. In any case, I was partially correct. My future lay in Sondres. I was just entirely wrong about what it would be.


	4. Mercenary

==============================================  
CHAPTER FOUR  
==============================================

I arrived in Sondres in less than a week, a little before the sun rose. I stunk, my beard was growing out, and I was hungry. I had stolen some clothes hanging on a washer woman's line and replaced them with my old ones, which were worn, but still relatively fine, save for some stab wounds. Finding water had been no issue. I had no bow with which to hunt, however, and was not precise enough for invocations to replace it, so I had traded my labor for food at inns, chopping wood, drawing water, and in one case, cleaning out the stables. I was not eager to repeat that particular task. In any case, I was eating, but generally only one meal a day, so I knew that I needed to find some kind of steady source of funds.

Once I arrived I continued down to the docks, remembering from a trip some years ago that they were always looking for strong backs to load and unload the ships. I was still in fairly good shape, especially after Raisa's healing, and I had the advantage of magic.

It would have been dangerous to show off powerful invocations as they would be a dead giveaway of my Pureblood status, but thankfully, I had no such abilities, and my hair had never changed. That being said, a few freshly trained mages arrived in a city like Sondres each day. Some made their way in the arts of war, others became laborers, functioning as living cranes or carts that could quickly and precisely manipulate cargos. I was hoping for employment as the latter. 

Once I arrived I found a dock master who needed such help and negotiated for a day's work. Being the son of nobility my understanding of the value of things was, I will admit, limited, so I was probably underpaid. I knew it would enough for food and a room, so I did not complain. 

As the day passed, I got the hang of things, slowly levitating crates and pallets that would have needed large numbers of men or slow cranes to move. My skills were not extraordinary in this regard, but as far as I could tell from what my fellow workers said there were only two other mages who bothered with this kind of thing, and one of them was elsewhere. Most preferred to sign on with the courts of lesser nobles or one of the mercenary companies fighting in the never-ending war across the sea. 

By the mid-afternoon, I noticed that I was being watched. She wasn't being subtle about it. She was tall, and well-muscled, although still obviously feminine, tanned with thick black hair shorn shorter than mine. She wore a sleeveless shirt, leather pants that looked to be some kind of armor, and soldier's boots. By the intent way that she watched me placing crates I knew that she intended to hire me or bed me. Maybe both.

As I stopped for a moment, she approached me and slapped me on the back, affably. I wasn't offended, but I was surprised. That seemed to be a good way to start a fight in a place like this. 

On the other hand she seemed as though she would have no trouble winning fights.

Up close I could see that her nose had the shape that only came from being broken a few times, and her rough features were scarred, although she was, in my mind, still attractive, no one would ever call her pretty.

"That's some nice work. How long have you been at it?"

"Uh," I said, wondering if I should tell the truth, "I really just started today."

"No, I meant how long have you been doing this uninterrupted? Without a break?"

I hadn't given it much thought but the truth was that I hadn't taken one.

"I guess since daybreak," I said, and her eyebrows raised in surprise. I wondered if I had perhaps said too much.

"Well, this crook," she said, gesturing to the dockmaster, who I noted was within earshot, "will work you and pay you nothing for your trouble. I'll give you a contract with my company. Mostly it will be things like this, but if you know any battle magic then you'll get a hefty raise right off."

I gave it some serious thought. At that time however, leaving for the continent was not what I wanted. I could better achieve my aims by remaining here, earning money, and planning.

"I don't think that's where I'm heading. But thank you."

"Well, if you change your mind, come down to The Dead Archer. That's where we're recruiting. We're going to be leaving in a week, so don't dawdle," she walked off, shouting over her shoulder, "You're wasted here!"

I laughed at her audacity and finished my task. Although the dockmaster had provided water and some stale bread throughout the day, I was hungry, thirsty, and tired. I knew that I had enough for room and board with a little left over. Maybe I could even hit the baths. It was a good day.

When it occurred to me how different my definition of "a good day" was from a week ago, I did get a little depressed. As I walked, I noted some kids running past me, towards the center of the city. That was where our family had what they called the "Winter Palace". It was also where father tended to rule in times of crisis or war, assuming things were going well. 

"The prince is here!" one of the children shouted. I panicked for a moment, until I realized that they were almost certainly referring to Tyr. 

What would he be doing here? Was there going to be an announcement of some kind? Would my mother or Merwyd be here? I decided to take the small risk of exposure for the opportunity to gather information. Although I wouldn't admit it to myself, the chance to glimpse the woman that I loved was also foremost in my mind. If she was here, perhaps I could even get her a message.

As it turns out, she was.

I arrived at the plaza to the type of carnival atmosphere that always accompanied royal proclamations and important executions. Vendors sold a variety of dubious street food and I shamelessly ate two sweet rolls and some unidentifiable roasted meat while I waited with the rest of the masses.

The palace itself stood squat with a single, large square tower. There was an ornate balcony from which such announcements were made. The building itself was decorated with colorful blue and gold banners, with the royal wyvern seal upon them. They looked rather new.

I saw them as soon as they stepped out of the door onto the balcony where I had stood in the past. My father, Uncle Bayrd, mother, and aunts. And of course Tyr and Merwyd. There was something in how she stood which filled my stomach with foreboding. 

It was the fear. Or rather, the total lack of it. She was relaxed. Happy. I suppose that she could have been acting. It would have made sense. But I knew her very well, or at least I thought I did, and she appeared completely natural to me. 

Father stepped forward, which meant he would be speaking. That made this serious. I saw him make the gesture and say the words that would amplify his voice and make him able to be heard in the plaza. In fact, he was powerful enough that he could be heard through much of the city.

"Loyal and gracious subjects, I speak to you of grave matters. There has been attempted assassination, from within my own house..."

Oh, for fuck's sake. It made sense that I would be made out to be the villain, but the question was, did they truly believe it?

"In the past week, my youngest son, who's name shall not be spoken here, attempted to murder my heir in a sacred space. He failed, and for his crimes was cast down from the tower by his intended victim. While I grieve his death and more importantly, utter moral failure, all traces of his rebellion have been stamped out, and the remaining family have joined together in unison..."

I took an additional risk and used magic of my own. It was very simple, and the only sign was my eyes shifting color continuously, but it was possible that a member of my family could have detected it. It was a very simple cantrip that enabled me to see detail at long distances at the cost of my peripheral vision. While father droned on, I examined the faces and posture of my family. Specifically the women I loved. Those who were the last I saw before my fateful meeting.

My mother was a skilled political operator, and could make her face a mask. But I knew her, and could see signs of some tension in the way that she held herself. There was, however, no sadness, no grief. Her eyes were at peace and were not red with tears. And for all the love she claimed to have for me, she most likely loved her brother the king, even more. Besides, she was young enough to have other children. Hadn't she, after all, led me personally to my ambush?

Merwyd was, if anything, worse. Well, I say worse, but her expression was one of excitement. Nearly joy. She showed no signs at all of uncertainty at being here on display. I saw the easy familiarity with which her arm suddenly wrapped itself around Tyr and the picture was complete. Wasn't there a look of worry on her face right before she left me to my mother? How much had she known, really? And she wore not even one item of mourning. None of them did. My father's words suddenly brought me back to reality.

"...this is why my heir and his betrothed have been married, in secret. The line must be protected for the security of the nation and my subjects."

At that, there was a great deal of cheering. My brother and Merwyd held hands, and rather spontaneously, it seemed, kissed, before they faced the crowd and waved, his arm over her shoulders in a territorial fashion. She leaned into him, beaming her brightest smile. I saw it all with crystal clarity. If she was acting, it was better than I had ever seen. At least father and mother looked serious, unhappy to have had to make the first announcement. The only one who looked genuinely disgusted with the whole affair was my uncle.

It made sense, we'd always gotten along, both of us being youngest sons. We'd frequently drank together and mocked the hypocrisy of our relatives. He had no children, so I was probably the closest thing to one that he would ever have.

Tyr, of course, was thrilled. He'd gotten everything he wanted. But he could have had that without murdering me. I was still at a loss as to why that was necessary. 

Even so, the mystery of my political fall and attempted murder were of far less import to me than Merwyd. She was the First Wife of the heir apparent. That came with huge amounts of prestige and power. She was, obviously, quite pleased with her new status. This left no more time to grieve the man who, a week ago, she had promised to love. Assuming that she hadn't been lying. 

I wasn't surprised at my sadness, nor the deep wave of loss that I felt wash over me. This was the first time that my heart had truly been broken, and in truth it was shattered. I felt numb, and then rage filled me. I was shocked by its intensity, its heat. If someone had spoken to me at that moment I may have killed them simply because I lacked the control to do otherwise. It passed swiftly, but I felt it there, lurking, a new part of my ever changing internal world. 

I don't remember leaving the plaza. I wandered in a daze for a few hours. I had made a decision, but I don't remember that either. My next memory is looking up and seeing the sign of the Dead Archer. I went in. 

It was a bawdy den of drink, gambling, and women of negotiable virtue. Currently, every ancient table and cracked bench was packed, and most of them looked like soldiers. I paid attention to their details. Their gear was not uniform, but nearly all of it was in good shape, and decent quality. Better than you would see in the official army of my father's kingdom, to be sure. They tended to be big, and older than raw recruits. I saw my admirer from before, sitting in the back of the inn with two others who must be her subordinates. She was speaking and both of them were listening attentively, nodding. One occasionally wrote something on scraps of paper with a charcoal stylus.

I walked to her table, but stayed respectfully distant. She could see me but I couldn't really eavesdrop from here. After a few more minutes she dismissed the two people there and waved me over. I sat on the other side of the table from her. The bench was surprisingly comfortable, having an ass groove worn in it from years if not decades of use. It smelled like decades.

"Keena, get my friend here some ale and mutton. You like mutton don't you?" I did but she didn't give me time to answer, "I'm Parla. You might have heard of me." She extended her hand to shake. I did so.

I realized rather belatedly that I couldn't give her my real name. Finn wasn't that uncommon but someone, sooner or later, would recognize it. So I gave her the name of an ancestor who had been something of a mercenary captain himself.

"I'm Seath. Its good to meet you although I'm afraid that I do not recognize your name. My plans here in Sondres fell through and I thought that I might see what you were offering."

She laughed.

"Your woman left you, did she? You have that look about you. The broken-hearted make good recruits. Don't feel bad. I'm only here because I got left at the altar."

I had a hard time seeing her as a blushing bride. I was a little shocked that she read me that easily, but I guess you had to be smart to run a successful mercenary company. 

"Well, Parla, tell me what you're offering. I'm interested but I need to be making enough for it to be worth the risk."

Parla considered me, her eyes suddenly sharp. She was evaluating me, but I wasn't sure how.

"You have the look of someone who's spent a little time soldiering to me. Can you kill or do you just lift crates and such?"

"I can kill. Several ways. I'm no healer, though I can do a little of that too. I know how to arrow shield." I added the last bit as an afterthought, remembering how much my men appreciated that on patrol.

"Show me something."

"You want me to kill someone?" I said, smirking.

"Well, you probably shouldn't," she pointed to a tankard in front of another woman, who looked a little like Parla but was taller, "Can you do something to that? Something impressive?"

It was only about fifteen feet away so I was comfortable with my precision. I pointed at it and spoke a word of power. It was honestly among the most basic of war magics, called the Arrow of Light. A brief pulse of blue luminescence extended from my finger to the tankard, which splintered and flew. Ale went everywhere.

I had honestly only intended to knock it over. The extra force startled me. Luckily no one noticed as the now ale-covered woman jumped up.

"GOD DAMMIT PARLA!" she bellowed, not even bothering to blame me. I got the feeling that this was part of a long standing tradition.

Parla, for her part was buckled over laughing. The larger woman stormed outside, cursing a storm. Everyone got out of her way.

"That's Sari, my sister," Parla said, wiping her eyes, "pay her no mind. She'll get me back soon."

After a moment of thinking, she continued, more seriously.

"That was powerful. A stronger Arrow than I've ever seen. Would have split a skull I think, even in a helmet."

I nodded, trying to look casual. 

"Wouldn't be much point using it if it didn't work. I can also produce gouts of flame and do some blood freezing. To be honest, killing isn't my best art."

"Well, its enough. Can you read?"

"Yes, and write passably. My teacher insisted."

She smiled widely and put a bag in front of me. It clinked impressively. I peeked inside and there was a good sum, far more than I could have made in months of dock work. I raised my eyebrows.

"You're my new adjutant. Don't worry, it's not hard, although it is dangerous. When we aren't fighting you write down what I say and keep records. When we are fighting you stay near me protect as many people as you can. When you're not doing that, you kill. Sound good?"

"Yes," I agreed immediately. I should probably have taken some time to think it over, but I didn't really care if I died at that moment and I wanted to get as far away from my hated family. This would work.

My food came, I ate and drank, Parla told jokes. She was honestly pretty funny. By the time I was done eating I realized that I was exhausted. She noticed and waved at a twig of a girl that I'd seen darting around tables.

"Bartles! Take our new recruit to a room. He gets his own," she said, then looked back at me with a rakish smile, "Get some sleep. Your new life is going to be pretty dull with brief periods of terror. Welcome to the Company of the Three Sisters. You're going to love it."

The shocking thing was that I did.

* * *

Three Weeks Later

We'd been on the continent for less than three days and we were already in the shit. 

I'm not going to tell you the story of the War of the Three Heirs. Every damn worthless historian has told it so many times, but somehow they always leave out the mud and the blood. There was a lot of both. The peasants died of starvation and fire and magic. The Kingdom of Vorchante groaned under endless violence and rapine. The joke became that villages were simply graveyards that hadn't been dug yet. It was ugly.

We'd unloaded our thousand men at Troyes and immediately been hired by the youngest heir, Portismunde, who was at this point losing quite badly. He put a lot gold into Parla's pocket and we were marching immediately for the main body of the army, where a series of intense battles were taking place. Unfortunately, along the way we ran into another heir's reinforcements. I never found out which one. Just that they were raw mercs and they had more than three thousand troops. 

We were more experienced and tougher, they had more men, but neither of us had any tactical advantage as we'd just bumbled into each other. By noon the rain was pouring from the sky. I was standing near Parla where I'd been all day. When the weather was clear I had disrupted the air, making shot and arrows fly wide of us. When it turned to rain the enemy closed on us. I had been pitching Arrows of Light all day and thought I should be tired by now. I'd never done this much spellwork in training or in a fight for that matter. But instead I felt invigorated. Alive. Pitched battle agreed with me.

Now, however, things were less agreeable. Lightning was crashing down in the middle of the battlefield, and there was nothing I could do about it. It killed indiscriminately and I wondered in the back of my mind if that would be how the gods killed me. Out of the walls of rain I saw a line of men charging at us, spears at the ready. They were young but their blood was up. I think they had just routed a squad of ours over the hill. They were looking to roll right over us. 

Parla directed fire and reformed the line. I should have been afraid, as I had been earlier, but instead I was exhilarated. This was the edge of life. There was nothing beyond it but spears and death. I saw a figure with a banner, leading at least part of the charge. I decided to use the advantage of the rain and attempted to freeze his blood. 

I was tired and didn't have a lot of control left. Looking back I think that helped. Blue light emanated from my hands and struck not only him but the ground and a few of the people around him. Massive ice crystals burst forth from their arms and legs, their torsos exploding in red frost. The ground around them surged with spikes of ice, killing or wounding all within five strides of my target. I blinked. Parla looked back at me, impressed. I shrugged. 

This staggered but didn't stop them. As they came closer I gave up on ice. Fire was valuable earlier in clear weather but in this downpour it wouldn't be of much use. Or would it? I had an idea. I couldn't generate fire very far away, but the enemy was very close. Instead of trying to engulf someone, I used my power above them, on the falling rain. Immediately there was a massive hiss of steam and visibility dropped around us. Then, directly under where I had used my magic, I heard the screams of the dying. There were quite a few. I hoped that none of them were ours. 

At last, they crashed into us, weakened but not stopped. I gave up on clever ideas and simply threw Arrow after Arrow. As I tired, finally, I found myself throwing more than one. I wasn't trying to do it, I was simply desperate and afraid, and so fucking angry that these idiots wouldn't give up. At the last second I noticed one young man, perhaps sixteen, had come close enough to Parla that his spear was raised and ready to impale her, perhaps in the neck. Parla's back was turned, shouting orders that could barely be heard twenty feet away. I reacted and three blue streaks came from my hand. They didn't simply impact the poor bastard and kill him, as was typical. They blew through his armor, his torso, and then back out his armor again. He collapsed, falling on top of her. She swore, pushed his limp corpse off of her, and then looked back at me, and nodded her thanks.

Our side held. Theirs broke. It was my first true battle. It would not be the last.

* * *

The real turning point for me, magically speaking, came with some bad news. Part of me was expecting it, but it didn't do anything to make it better.

It was months after that first muddy engagement. We'd fought several battles as part of much larger forces on behalf of Portismunde, who was now the lead contender. It was that kind of war. We had taken quite a few losses so we were back in our dive in Troyes that served as our logistics base, headquarters, and recruitment center for the War of Three Heirs. We had finished our last contract with stunning success. I was gaining a reputation as a mage of some skill, albeit nothing special in the power department.

The kid, Bartles, third of the Three Sisters (although ironically not related to the other two, she was something of a mascot I would come to learn) came in with a broadsheet in her hand. She loved Purebloods. Loved reading about us and gossiping about us. It was ironic to me as she was clearly a Wildblood from the Great Forest. She had leaves in her hair for fucks sake. She was, by all accounts, interesting, and definitely had powers and magics that no Pureblood could ever possess. And she could read, which was more than a lot of the company could say.

But we were powerful and glamorous and larger than life. I doubt that it even occurred to her that I could be a Pureblood, even when I started manifesting greater power. I was too grimey and broken to be one of her paragons.

In any case, Bartles, who was adorable, started reading the broadsheet to all of us. She thought she was sharing vital news, but really, we humored her. And she generally told a good story. 

"Listen up," she said, her adolescent voice full of attempted authority, "It seems like there's news about the royals back in Cymru."

I wanted to stand up and leave, but there was no way I could make it in time. Whatever it was, it wouldn't be good news for me. At best it would make me ache for home. At worst...

I'll let you choose which one it turned out to be.

"The wife of the heir is with child! She's going to give birth in six months!"

Well. 

The wife. That narrowed things down.

Why, I left the castle barely three months ago. And in six months. They....she...got started early, didn't she?

I sat very still while my compatriots argued the merits of noblewomen and whether or not they had better breasts than commoners. I could have told them there were no differences that not having to work and have twenty children couldn't account for. I was, however, enraged.

It was too much. She had looked happy standing there, on the balcony. And now she was carrying the fruit of that traitor's seed as if I had never existed. I wanted to flip the table, to fight, to die. I wanted anything but to be there hearing those fucking words.

The broadsheet caught fire. Bartles dropped it with a shout, sucking on her singed finger. Everyone was shocked. Some probably suspected magic was done. But it couldn't have been me. I never said a word, and everyone knew mages couldn't do anything without incantations and certainly not without sign marking them clear as day. 

I knew in my heart that it was me. There had been stories, in the past, of Purebloods willing things to happen. Sometimes small, sometimes grandiose. But without words or gestures or even magical sign. I was enraged. And fire had taken that which had enraged me.

I gave a silent prayer of thanks that it was the broadside and not Bartles that had caught fire. I couldn't live with myself if I had hurt her. She was the last innocent I knew of, anywhere.

From that point forward I started to be different with my approach magic. I exercised it every day, and not in the way that we were taught. In the past it was always skill, control, practice, practice, practice.

I remembered the old words:

"Kneel, for the Flame is my Friend and the Lightning my Brother. I am of the Pure Blood."

I went out to the hills beyond the city and resided there. I told the boss that I would be out there practicing magic and asked her to send someone for me when they had a contract. She agreed. She thought anything that made me better at killing was a capital idea.

Out in the ruin of some forgotten village, I forgot control and banished restraint. I used the same spells that I always did, summoning fire, lifting rocks, making sparks of light fly through the air. But instead of controlling them with intellect, I filled them with rage. Instead of holding them back with discipline, I channelled my sorrow and loss into them. My grief was as sharp as a blade and I wielded it like one.

As I had posited, the increase in power was...significant. The first day I tried my old firegout trick. At the beginning I could engulf a man or a bush, as expected. By the end of the day I was sweating, exhausted, and hated myself, but I had released something big enough to engulf the entire ruin of an inn. For a little while, I think some of the stone was burning. My dear brother had never done anything this powerful before. Neither, for that matter, had Merwyd. This was not the new magic of our age, but the old magic of the brutal fights against the Karresh and the horrors left by the Eldest. This was what saved the world and possibly nearly destroyed it. This was what made men fear Purebloods.

I could revenge myself on my family with this, even without allies. 

I had cut my hair down quite a bit, but I knew some had turned white that day, even if I could not see it. I would have to make an effort to dye it soon, but I could use bootblack for the time being if needed. 

I was still full of hate, but for the first time in an age I felt like I was more at the end of a day than at the beginning. I went to bed and called it a victory. 

Naturally, my rage grew. Rage isn't something you spend and its gone. Its something you stoke and it stays. It may go out for a little while, but it always comes back, and stronger. 

My heart still loved Merwyd, maybe it always would, but the thing that had been growing in me? The thing that had perhaps been there long before I went out a goddamn window of the sanctum? It wanted to burn her and anything she gave birth to. It wanted to feed the ashes to Tyr. I'm not proud of it now, and I wasn't then, either. But I needed power, so I admitted the truth; that I was the thing, and I fed it, for the first time, actively. If everyone else in my family could sacrifice me to survive, then they had no room to criticize me when I came back a monster.

Beasts must eat, and mine demanded blood. So, it would have it.


	5. The Spear

==============================================  
CHAPTER FIVE  
==============================================

Life became a bit surreal during these years. I compartmentalized it into three parts: training, fighting, and Raisa. Training would simply consist of me going somewhere and practicing techniques. Channeling my emotions and letting loose. It seemed that each time I did so, I unleashed a little more power. By the time I left the company, the name of Seath was synonymous with the Company, and I was feared. 

Fighting was pretty straightforward too, although there were moments. I was injured, but rarely gravely. I was paid very well, the irony being that I had little to spend it on. Every time we went back to Troyes I scoured merchants stalls for books and scrolls of new magic to try, but the war had driven away purveyors of such high-end merchandise. I was unceremoniously declared the "official war mage of the Three Sister's Company" early on, however. Which came with a slight pay raise and access to an ancient, barely coherent book of spells with the hand-scrawled title of "Lore of Acheron". Much of it seemed to have been written in a drug-addled haze by a brilliant, if mad, sorcerer. I did learn some new tricks, however, that I would use to great effect in the coming years. Most notably the ability to push with great force, which is something most Purebloods learned early but I had not, due to my limited abilities. And there was a rather inspired section on channelling the rage and sorrow of others. Prior to my own experiments, I would have ignored it. Now, however...

Even as a I grew and learned, my hair gradually turned blonde, then white. I noticed that when I looked very closely at it that it had an iridescent sheen that I had no word for. I cut it short, but also dyed it brown. I wore hoods and sometimes even masks if I didn't have time to shave. I did it out of fear of being discovered as a Pureblood but it gave me a sinister reputation, and I was avoided by all decent folk. The exception being, of course, Bartles. She was growing up on god-forsaken battlefields and wine-sotted taverns, but somehow managed to be honest and innocent. I didn't understand it, but it was heartening. If she didn't have other duties she'd often follow me on my training and cheer as I destroyed something spectacularly or laugh good-naturedly when my magic failed in an amusing way. Anyone else I would probably have sent hurtling through the sky, but you just had to laugh along with Bartles.

Every now and then, with no regularity or warning, I would wake in my room or tent, and Raisa would be there. She never failed to startle me, which she always found amusing. Her visits were, however, always welcome. More than welcome really, necessary. I think that they kept me sane. As the last family member who I trusted and knew loved me, I came to value her more and more. 

Before that happened though, we had to work out the specifics of "our deal" as she called it.

It was about six months into my run with the Three Sisters that she first showed up. I was in what had become my regular room at The Werewolf's Hart, which was a little away from where the company bunked. It was high end, quiet, and clean. And the locks worked. I awoke to a figure straddling me. My first impulse was to use my one of my newly learned abilities to launch them out the window, as I was on the third floor, but when I realized that they were just sitting there, I guessed who it was.

"Raisa?"

She giggled in her girlish and charming way. She had always liked sneaking up on me and trying to scare me. I guess that hadn't changed.

I became aware of how warm she was, how light. And this time, when I saw her curves, I wasn't bleeding from my back. My body responded to both her and my complete lack of sex in the previous months. As she sat, watching me, she must have felt my cock, because even in the dim candle light I could see her blush.

She hopped off me but I caught her around her waist and pulled her close to me. She made a surprised squeak, and then as I spooned her she moaned deep in her throat, a much more adult noise. I'm not sure why I did it except I really did miss her, and the desire she had awoken in my was much stronger than I expected. I was quickly back in control of myself. I would not, ever, do anything to her that she didn't want me to.

"So," I said, casually, "Do you come here often."

She giggled again and relaxed in my arms a bit. She had always cuddled with me. Was it my imagination or had she just backed her small, tight ass back against my hard cock?

"It's nice. You have good taste, for a mercenary."

I leaned in and kissed her neck, gently. She shivered a bit and melted back into me. My arms were around her and I could feel her chest rising and falling a little faster. She spoke again.

"We have to talk about Our Deal," she said. You could hear the capital letters and it was clear that she had given this a lot of thought. 

"You did save my life, so, I suppose I serve at your pleasure," I whispered the words into her ear, and she moaned a little again. 

"You're...you're making fun of me. You shouldn't."

I laughed, deep and rich. 

"No. I'm not teasing you, love. You've grown up, and I am very appreciative of what you've done for me. I know the risks. I'll do whatever you want, so long as you make me a promise. I know its not fair, but I must demand it."

"What do you want me to promise?"

"That you won't attempt to kill any of our family. And that if you think that any of them believe that you have betrayed them, that you will run. And lastly that if...if I die, you won't attempt to avenge me, but live your life for yourself. I love you."

I'd also thought quite a bit about her. The idea of Raisa being injured or killed while working on my behalf made me sick. Mostly, that was what my prohibition on assassinating family was about too. They were trained to expect it. Also, I had no idea who was my enemy and who was simply trying to survive Pureblood politics.

"I....I promise. But I can still help you, right?"

"Yes."

"All right. Then this is what I want. I want you to make love to me whenever I want. If...if you ever get back to home I want to be your First Wife. And when I'm ready, I want you to give me a child. Actually, as many as I want. That's it."

I admit, after our last encounter I expected something like the first request. And the last one made sense, if her feelings for me were as strong as I suspected, far beyond simple desire. The second one showed some forethought, though. Its one thing to marry a prince of Pure Blood, another thing entirely to be the First. She had a degree of sexual freedom, and power over any other wives and concubines. And she was, almost, the equal of her husband. She could even rule on his behalf if he became infirm. While I knew that the women in our family were at least a match in capability for the men, most of them were, at the end of the day, treated like property.

"Done," I said, "Would you want me to sign something for your or do you trust my word? I'm afraid I had to leave home without my signet."

"N..no. I trust you. I'll always trust you."

I released her from my grip long enough to light the lantern on the crude table with a simple spell. 

"W...why did you do that?" Raisa said, suddenly nervous.

"So I could see my lovely little sister better. I didn't really get a good look at you last time."

She fidgeted in my arms.

"Please don't be mad," she said. Still facing away from me, she pulled her hood down and lowered her cowl. She turned around. I braced myself, expecting a scar or injury. I would still love her and make love to her, in any case. I had plenty my own scars and had never found them unattractive in others. She turned around in my arms and faced me, so I could see her in the dim light.

"What?" I said, confused, breaking the tension, "You're gorgeous, even more so than when you were younger."

She truly was. She had grown into her elfin features, her high cheekbones providing shape to her large, bright-green eyes. Her flame-red hair was in a tight bun. Her mouth was drawn tight with worry, clearly expecting some kind of rejection.

"B..but..." she said, stuttering a bit, "My hair..."

I looked at her hair, then I finally understood. I hadn't been around my own kind in too long. Her hair had no white in it, and thus her power had not developed at all. For most Purebloods, this made her undesirable. Ugly. 

I'd never really felt the same way, but after living with commoners I found the idea offensive.

"It's beautiful. I love the way the lamplight reflects off of it. And damn anyone who doesn't agree." I ran my fingers through it and then put my hand on her face. She leaned into my palm, closing her eyes, biting her lip. There was going to be no talk about power.

I leaned in and truly kissed her for the first time. There had been many chaste kisses on the cheek or head when we were younger, but no one would mistake this for chaste. Her eagerness outweighed her experience, as her tongue immediately darted into my mouth. I wanted to take things a little more slowly but she had her arms wrapped around my neck and seemed determined to literally smother me with kisses. When we broke for a second, both of us were breathing hard.

"Easy," I said, laughing, "We've got all the time we need."

"Sorry," she said, her eyes twinkling, "I'm...just excited."

That was the right word for it. We kissed again, this time a little less intensely, taking breaths. I had one of my hands in her hair, stroking it gently, while I let my other explore her body slowly. Unlike last time, she was dressed in a dark silken tunic and breeches. I saw her leather outer armor laying discarded on the floor, next to her boots. What she wore served to emphasize rather than conceal her body.

I could feel, quite easily, the contours of her small left breast. As I thumbed her nipple, I noticed that it was hard like a pebble. She groaned in my mouth, audibly as I did so, more responsive than any other lover I had ever been with. I took this as permission and moved my hand down to her tight ass, pulling it into me. She gasped as she felt my hard cock pressing into her hip, and began to grind her pussy against my leg with some abandon. 

I felt grateful to be with this vibrant young woman after so many days of blood and banality. I wanted to make her feel good. I moved my hand down from her breast, slowly across her belly, and then slipped it into the top of her breeches. She froze, completely. The only sign of her being anything but a statue was her rapid, shallow breaths. 

I stopped and moved my hand out.

"Are you all right?" I said, concerned that I did something wrong. She took a moment to respond, and it was barely a whisper.

"Y...yes," she said, "I'm s...sorry. I just, um...oh gods," she tucked her head into my chest, her breath still coming too fast.

"Its all right. I'm not going to do anything until you're ready, all right?"

She nodded, and I felt her relax a little, her breathing slowing. A thought occurred to me and I didn't know why it hadn't before.

"Are you...have you ever lay with anyone before?"

Rather than respond with words she shook her head, keeping her face buried in my chest. So she was a virgin. I had assumed based on her age and beauty that surely someone would have...but no. Of course not. For years she had been at some shadow temple training in stealth and assassinations, and they probably had some fairly strict rules about assignations between initiates. And because of her lack of power she would not have been overly interesting to Tyr or our father. Probably not uncle either, although he seemed to have some strange preferences anyhow. Naturally, commoners would not attempt to initiate any sort of sexual relationship with a royal princess. Even lesser nobles would be loathe to do that. Despite her rights my family did have a bit of a reputation for killing unwanted suitors. So she'd been alone. Waiting for...for me.

"You should have come to me sooner. Or I should have come to you. I couldn't have imagined that I would be lucky enough to be your first."

She looked up at me and I stroked her hair, as I did when we were younger. She whimpered, which was definitely new. It was a very appealing noise.

"I couldn't," she said, "it was too dangerous, and uncle kept ordering me to...well they were all in the North, so far from you."

I could only imagination that "they" referred to her targets. I decided to keep talking a bit, until she relaxed.

"A lot of problems in the North, are there?"

She smiled widely, which was unexpected.

"Yes. There are a many nobles who were used to seeing you on patrol and don't think that Tyr is up to the job of ruling. I've killed a few who were trying to be independent, but I might have let a couple go who are rather ardent supporters of the theory that you were murdered and are the 'rightful heir'."

I laughed.

"You never fail to surprise me, little sister. Just like the old days when you'd be waiting behind a door with a bucket of water."

She giggled, so pure and clear.

"You remember that? Oh that's so embarrassing."

We both stopped laughing, looking deeply into each others eyes. Her hand came back to my face, stroking me softly.

"You can touch me again," she said, much more calmly, "please."

"Gladly," I said, slipping my hand back into her breaches, touching her sex for the first time. She wore no panties, and her breeches were soaked already.

"Oh...oh...Finn....oh fuck..."

I don't think I'd ever heard Raisa swear, and it was oddly erotic to me. I had barely brushed her clitoris or labia. I simply put my hand on her and she started grinding against me, shuddering in my arms. 

"Do you want your older brother to make you feel good?"

She nodded, moaning.

I slowly, gently, slipped a finger inside of her. She was tighter than any woman I had ever been with. Her moan was loud. It occurred to me that my neighbors would be hearing quite a bit this evening. I didn't care so long as Raisa was happy. I used my thumb to circle her clitoris while my finger slowly pumped inside of me.

"Oh...gods...its better..."

I smiled.

"Better than what, little sister?"

When she spoke I increased the speed of my finger, and added another.

"Better than...oh fuck....better than I'd ever dreamed...I love you. I think of you....oh...oh...often..."

I was very flattered to feature so prominently in her fantasies. I made a decision to go a bit further to make her first time good. I stopped. She looked up at me, frustrated and a little hurt.

"Why did you..."

I smiled and took my own breeches off, which is all that I was sleeping in. I used to sleep naked but a night attack changed that. You never live down having to run out of your tent throwing magical fire with your cock swinging about. 

Speaking of which, as soon as my hard shaft popped into sight, Raisa immediately focused on it, staring. Her mouth opened in an adorable little "O" of surprise. She didn't help but she didn't resist as I first took off her shirt and then pulled her breeches off. They almost had to be peeled off of her sex.

She was different from her full-sister Merwyd, and gorgeous. Her skin was pale ivory, almost translucent. Her breasts where small, pert, and upturned. They had felt very firm and I doubted that gravity had much impact on them. Her lovely smooth belly led to small hips that framed a sex surrounded by a small amount of fiery red hair. It looked to me as though she may have trimmed it for me. I couldn't see her tight little ass, but I'd felt it already.

"That...won't, um..." she said, eyes still glued to my cock.

"Have you never seen one before? Does it look strange to you?"

She finally looked me in the eyes.

"Strange? No. But its...far too big to fit in me," she said, shaking her head almost comically.

I laughed out loud and she scowled and hit me in the leg. 

"It will, little one, when its time. But it isn't time. Do you know why?"

"No, why?"

"Because I haven't tasted you yet..."

I kissed her on her neck, fiercely, biting her gently as she moaned, moved my mouth to her nipple which I trapped in my lips as my hands squeezed her breasts. She whimpered. I left my hand to continue to tweak her nipple as I kissed my way across her belly, which fluttered under my attentions. Finally I reached her small, perfect sex. Her hair was soaked, her nub and lips were swollen and covered in her fluids. And it was all so compact, just like the rest of her. 

I licked gently at her clitoris. She squealed.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, Finn, oh....I don't..."

I gave her no time to recover. I began by licking at her labia, getting her pure scent over my mouth and chin. She groaned, loudly. I darted my tongue inside her tight warmth. She cried out. I began to circle her clitoris with my tongue, and her breathing became ragged. I inserted my fingers again, and she put her hands in my hair, desperately trying to grind me into her sex. I resisted, barely, and started to lap at her clitoris in earnest. 

"Please, oh please, I...love..."

She got no more words out as I hooked my fingers to touch the rough flesh at the top of her tunnel. She cried out, once, twice, then collapsed limply to the bed. I worried she had passed out for a moment, until I moved up next to her and she cuddled into my chest. I held her for a little while. This was familiar, she had fallen asleep on me like this when we were much younger. Although my need was great I resolved to let her rest if that was what she needed. There would be other times, or at least thats what I told myself.

My selfless train of thought was disrupted by a small hand moving over my cock. I moaned, involuntarily. It had been a long time since anyone other than me had touched it.

"It's so lovely and hard. Is that...for me?" she said, absent-mindedly stroking my shaft.

"Yes. If you want it. Are you taking Bride's Bane?"

She looked at me with a sly sort of smile and shook her head.

"No. But you're still going to mount me and fill me with your seed. If I get with child, that's just a nice surprise, isn't it?"

Inexperienced or not, no woman had ever said anything like that to me before. I felt my need overpower me. I rolled on top of her, pinning her wrists with my hands as I kissed her. She moaned into my mouth as my cock, now wet with precum, pressed into her belly. I moved lower and it slid between her legs, under her wet, warm slit. She gasped and instinctively moved her hips up and down, which made me wild with desire.

I was unable to resist any longer. I moved my cock to her entrance. If she hadn't been a virgin, I'd have thrust inside her fast and hard. She was wet enough. As it was I entered her slowly, watching her eyes and face carefully. I'd deflowered enough women to know to stop if it hurt, or if they became uncomfortable. I wasn't a complete lout.

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, my cock finally entered her completely. She bit her lip and moaned deep in her throat. Her toned legs wrapped around mine and her hands held my head in place, facing her. She was looking into my eyes. I moved slightly and she whimpered and held my head more tightly.

"What's wrong, love?" I asked, confused.

"Nothing. I just wanted to really see you. As you are."

I didn't understand what she meant, but she let go and I kissed her as I began moving. Gods she was responsive. This wasn't like making love to a passive partner, every stroke was returned by a roll of her hips or pulling from her legs to bring me back inside her. 

"You are...so good," I barely managed to get out. It was not exactly high poetry but she'd driven me beyond the ability to form flowery prose.

She moaned at my words and moved faster, inspiring me to fuck her harder. She nipped and bit my neck, leaving harsh red marks. Her nails dug into my back. She told me in so many ways how much she loved me. How much she needed this.

"Brother...I'm going to...again. I love you so...much."

Her body quaked, her hips grinding on me uncontrollably. I continued to thrust ruthlessly into her, both wanting to prolong her pleasure and barely able to control my own desire. She moaned with increasing intensity and finally cried out my name:

"Finn, oh gods, I love you!"

Then went collapsed for a moment and I slowed down for a bit. It was more difficult than I make it sound. To her surprise, I pulled out of her. Then, taking advantage of her compliant state, I rolled her over and pulled her hips into the air. She instinctively kept her head down, and looked over her shoulder at me with anticipation in her eyes. She was already an amazing lover.

I entered her swiftly this time, her quim gripping me immediately, her moan loud and shocked. I began to fuck her in earnest, pounding her. I was out of self control, my cock thrusting into her like a weapon. Every stroke was met with her pushing back to me, whimpering, chirping, and finally crying out. I realized she was close again.

"Finn, please fill me. I need your cum. I need it..."

Her words were the deciding moment for me. I came, hard. Harder than I could remember. I felt thick strands of seed leaving me, I felt her wetness gush around my cock and mix with my own fluids. I felt her milking me instinctively, pulling every drop out of me, squeezing and compressing me. I would be sore the next day. She held me in place with her small but strong legs as her own orgasm vibrated through her, gasping. Then she relaxed, releasing me. I pulled out of her and saw our love flow from her. I rolled off of her and laid on my back. She whimpered, displeased for a moment and then rolled over, sprawling on my chest while throwing her leg over me. I chuckled.

"What?" she said, looking up at me.

"I feel as if you've marked me as your territory."

"Well,...I mean....I couldn't ever claim you..." She blushed charmingly and looked away.

I gently touched her chin so she looked at me again. I knew the words that she wanted to hear. I said it in the old way, 

"You are property of this prince. No other may have you, without killing me."

She smiled widely, then nestled into my chest.

"Good."

I slept that night, holding her as close to me as I could. When I woke, she was gone, and I felt more than alone. I felt hollow and incomplete. This is how our love was, for a long time.

* * * 

It about two years into my service with the Three Sisters that that I found Caliban. Or maybe she found me. It is hard to say with these things.

We were marching as part of a much greater force. Ionna had vanished in the East after her army had collapsed in revolt. Portismunde was convinced that he was close to final victory, so we were going to siege the capital, still held by his sister Orelia. On the way, several forts needed to be reduced. Preferably to piles of stones. We drew the worst assignment: taking the Triangle Fort. It was a banal name for a such a death trap.

It was called the Triangle Fort because it had three sides. Not very creative, I know. The problem was that two of them bordered a river which ran around a small piece of jutting land where it was situated. We had cut off the river both to the North and south with great chains, and we held the other side easily, so they could't resupply. That left only the land-facing wall, which was, unfortunately, the only possible point of assault.

I awoke in the middle of the night, Bartles poking my shoulder. 

"Wake up. Parla wants you," was all she said. I grunted in reply but she didn't move.

"Get out Bartles. I'm wearing pants so theres nothing to see," I grumbled.

She snickered and ran out. How she had so much energy at the witching hour I had no idea. I got up, put on a tunic, my leather jerkin, and some well-worn boots, and headed over the to Parla's HQ. The night was lit up by our camp fires and I could hear screams and dim sounds of battle in the distance. The fort was well lit, its black stone shining in the light of flames. It had two towers which were adjacent to the main gain, and then six more spread out along the land-facing wall. The stones fit together like pieces of a puzzle and the surface was unnaturally smooth, making it impossible to scale by hand. It was said that a Pureblood built it with the help of many Stonebloods, who regrettably died in the process. 

The HQ was just a larger tent with a banner on it, the three interlocked rings in yellow on a black field. I heard Parla and Sari shouting at each other. This wasn't that unusual, but the tone seemed to be a little harsher. I walked in but didn't draw any attention to myself.

"We're just spending blood! Once we're out of men, Portismunde will just refuse to pay us and take it with his own troops!" Sari was angry, but I'd been around her long enough to hear the desperation in her voice.

"We can do this. We just won't do it with a frontal assault. Not even with the Karrash," Parla said

"Then how?"

Parla looked at me and raised an eyebrow. I tried not to panic. If they were turning to me, then things must be getting pretty desperate.

"All right," she said, waving with her hand, "Everyone out, I have to consult with my war mage." 

There was some grumbling but Sari and the lieutenants left. Parla was in charge and everyone knew it.

"What are you thinking?" I asked. I'd never even hinted at being a siege mage. They were rare, expensive, and fragile.

"Well, I was wondering what you could do to get those gates open. Or even make a slight breach. Or just get some men on the other side. We're not doing that well right now."

"Isn't this what the Karrash are for?" Being a Pureblood I had more or less inherited many of my kind's prejudices against the gray people from the Other Side. I had very little trust for them. Even knowing that "our" Karrash had been recruited from clans that had been here for centuries and were not afflicted with the madness of the invaders.

"They're tough, and brave, but they're still just men. Sending anyone directly against the walls is suicide. Even the siege towers we've made aren't enough, because of their damn fire mage."

There was someone who threw fire accurately who kept themselves on the wall but at a respectable distance from our archers. If I could have but seen them, I would have killed them.

I sighed. I thought of the book. I could almost see Merwyd's face, full of worry, begging me not to do it. She was no longer my guiding star, however.

"I have an idea. But you won't like it," I said, finally.

"Try me."

"Send an assault. Make sure they are raw recruits. When it fails have them pull back but not all the way to the camp. Keep them in sight of the fortress. Then I'll...try something."

She looked at me, stone-faced.

"You want me to send them into that meat grinder? For you to try something? They're almost children."

"I told you that you wouldn't like it. They need to be raw so they feel the first shock of battle. Veterans are too used to seeing their friends die, I won't get enough strife from them. It's the only idea I have."

She thought for a few seconds, but she had no other options.

"All right. Anything else I should know?"

"Yeah. Have some kind of force ready to assault if my plan works. If it does, you'll know what to do. If it doesn't, well..."

"If it does work, you'll have the first pick of the loot. That's my promise to you."

Looting was not as haphazard as one might think. Sure, there was an initial rush after a battle to pick the bodies clean or see what valuables might be in the houses. But things in vaults or temples or the property of lords got added to a big pile. Then we picked over it in order of seniority, or, as in this case, the he will of the Commander.

I headed out to watch the assault. It was one thing to demand that men die, but I felt that I had to at least witness their unknowing sacrifice. 

After a short time, horns blew and men rushed the wall. It was a small party, the sort of sortie you send to keep the besieged on their guard. But they were already on their guard.

I watched as they closed. As men died to arrow fire, then dropped stones and boiling oil as they reached the wall. Only one group even got a ladder raised into position, but no one was able to start scaling before the retreat was called. It was a massacre.

Of the hundred the made the charge, less than thirty returned. It was far worse than I had asked for. As requested the men were not allowed to return to the camp but instead came to my vantage position in a forward trench. They could still hear the jeers and curses of the enemy. I looked around me, saw men screaming from burns that still smoked, arrow wounds that hadn't even been noticed in their shock, and smoke-red eyes filled with hatred and battle-madness.

Yes. This was what I needed.

I centered myself, drawing on magic of the force of the earth, used commonly to throw targets away from the caster. I drew upon it, and channelled my rage and sorrow. Then, I began to draw upon that of the men around me, worn and shocked out of their innocence. I heard men passing out around me or retching their dinners up as I pulled their emotions from them. It was as though I was distant from them, not even in my own body. I wondered if this was how the gods felt when they slaughtered us for their amusement. 

When I was full of the worst of man's hatred and grief, I ran towards the wall. It was always possible I'd get picked off by an arrow at close range, even with the protection of the wind. But at this moment, after that disaster of an attack, no one seemed to be paying attention. I reached the smooth and glossy surface of the wall, the most hated enemy in this battle. I felt rage boiling over within me, as if I might explode at any moment.

I touched the wall, and willed it to move away from me. I don't remember anything for a while after that. 

My next memory is of floating away from the fort back to camp. As my consciousness returned, I felt hands, big and strong, holding me. Then I was dropped rather unceremoniously on a cot.

I opened my eyes to the worst hangover that I had ever felt in my life. Bartles and Sari were looking down at me. Sari was smiling grimly while Bartles had no expression at all.

"Did it work?" I croaked. I noticed that my throat was very dry and I was covered in some kind of dust.

Sari just laughed. Bartles nodded and handed me a flask of water. I drank some and then passed out for few hours.

I dreamed of dead men.

I woke again in the dim light of dawn. I could feel a change in the camp. I didn't need to be told that the fortress had fallen. The laughter and shouting told me as much.

"Parla wants to talk to you, if you can move," Bartles said. She was seated near me. Had she been there all night?

"All right," I said, standing. I wobbled for a moment, but remained upright. I left the shade and soft moans of the medical tent into the harsh light of day and looked back at the fortress. There was a breach, sixty feet wide, where I had touched the wall. Behind it was, well, very little any more. The blast and spray of stone hadn't taken down the wall that bordered the water, but it had collapsed a few buildings inside the fortress. The banner above the keep showed three rings, yellow on a black field.

I walked to the HQ, Bartles following behind me nervously.

"You can go now, I'm all right," I told her. She kept following me so I stopped and looked at her over my shoulder. I realized that she had something to say, so I waited. 

"Are you a demon or a man?" she asked, finally. The fear in her eyes was now evident to me. It was an honest question, not an accusation. Damn it.

"The truth is that you can be both, child," I said without turning around, before moving to Parla's tent.

Parla nodded to me as I entered. I saw her poring over a map, no doubt planning the next march. She gestured to the corner of the tent.

"There were some fine treasures. But a promise is a promise."

There was a small pile of things, all undoubtedly from the personal collection of the master of the fortress. I rifled through it without any pretense of honor. We were here for money, after all.

There was a cask of jewels, not the rarest but certainly worth far more than their weight in gold. There was a shield which was doubtless magical, as it luminesced blue even in the bright light of morning. There was a suit of armor, inlayed with onyx and gold, that would have certainly fetched a king's ransom. This is doubtless what Parla expected me to choose. Its what I was about to choose, and then I saw her.

She sat a little ways off on her own, as if she didn't belong with such things. For once, my education in the history of my kind was worth something. She didn't belong with the rest of the loot. She was far too fine.

She was a spear, as long as I was tall, an unusual length in an age of long pikes or short javelins. She had a thick haft which was light, and seemed to be black wood but was not. The steel tip, or blade, really, was a dark blue. The runes and signs etched on it were almost worn away, but never would in their entirety. Nor would the ivy and rose design carved into the dragon bone of the shaft. 

This was a weapon of a True Prince of the Pure Blood, whom she had doubtlessly loved. She had been made for killing the leftover creations of the Eldest and then later to fight the Karrash invaders and their demonic masters. She was a tool of channeling the magic of purifying destruction commonly associated with male magical energies. Lightning and fire.

She told me as much as soon as I had touched her. The images of war and death in my mind were vivid. As was her name, Caliban. As it turned out, she was quite lonely after being in the hands of louts who could not understand her, and was eager for the grip of a man of the Pure Blood. I felt her energies mingling with mine, like foreplay.

We were meant for each other.


	6. Revealing Power

==============================================  
CHAPTER SIX  
==============================================

Of course, having made a place for myself where I belonged, I ruined it. Thankfully at least I didn't dishonor the company. I suppose it was inevitable that sooner or later someone would realize I was still alive. I had made the dubious decision not to hide my growing power, thinking I would be considered one of the many skilled siege mages for hire in the War of Three Heirs. It was a good source of money and I saved all of it.

I saved it for a future that I wasn't sure would ever come.

Battles and marches blended into each other. There were months of respite as temporary truces were negotiated or the winters became too cold for savagery. Raisa's irregular visits became the high point of my life. We'd make love, to be sure, but also talk about old times. I suppose this I when I truly fell in love with her, even if I couldn't forget Merwyd. We even started to make tentative plans. I was trying to persuade her to disappear with me and go somewhere to the East, where the frontier was still a bit dangerous and there were no kingdoms or politics to run afoul of, but she still wanted to help me to come home somehow. When I told her that I no longer had any interest in that place, she simply told me that I would, one day. I suppose I proved her right eventually.

Raisa would also update me on what the family was doing, who was politicking, who was in favor with father and who was not. Tyr had only had the one child, who was a girl, so the future of the kingdom was not completely secure, but he had time. She told me about several small revolts that ended up getting put down easily, but neither father nor Tyr went north to deal with the root of the issue, which was noble discontent and ever-increasing taxes. The violence seemed to be getting worse and more organized each year. In the past a king or his heir would show up, make a few minor concessions to the northern lesser nobles, and they would swear oaths of allegiance again. The only other valid option was to start putting people to the sword and occupying castles, which was expensive in men and treasure. In either case, some kind of action would have to be taken, but none was, aside from Raisa occasionally assassinating a noble or two. The strategy of inaction made no sense to me. 

Unless the purpose was to stoke the fires of rebellion, in which case the strategy was working. I couldn't figure out what end that achieved, so it remained a mystery. In the meantime, the war dragged on.

I made my mistake, naturally, at a large battle with plenty of witnesses. My action at the Triangle Keep, years prior, had been easily explained as an "accidental discharge of powerful magic" by an "incompetent siege mage". It certainly felt that way to me, in any case. I had no control over what I released save the most general effect. This time, however, there would be no doubt left that I was a Pureblood in hiding.

Portismunde, confident in his impending victory, fired us and stiffed us on the last six months of pay. Naturally, we did what any good mercenary group would do: we checked to see what his competitors were offering. Ionna had returned. She only had a fraction of her prior army, but she did have a great deal of wealth. Some from noble backers, some from looted mines to the East. She made a very competitive offer so we were marching on an agrarian valley which was Portismunde's main food source. 

We were going to steal everything we could and burn everything we couldn't. It was a good, simple plan. It lasted until one unseasonably warm morning when our scouts informed us that we were about to blunder into Portismunde's rear guard, which had been sent to escort supplies back to the main line.

It wasn't his main army, but it did outnumber us more than three to one, and these weren't raw recruits. Nonetheless, they were guarding not only food, but also equipment, horses, and even camp followers. Capturing this supply train would not only be valuable, but also would inflict untold damage to the enemy's morale.

And, Parla told me, we'd be drinking Portismunde's wine and fucking his new male courtesans. Well, mostly Parla and Sari would be doing that, but I understood her point. It felt like fitting revenge for the lost funds.

To make a long story short, we ambushed them as they marched past, cutting their lines up and panicking them. A group of cavalry, who later turned out to be Portismunde's elite lancers, kept their heads and charged Sari's heavy infantry line. I was with her, throwing fire and lightning as I saw fit and wherever she directed.

When I noticed the charge, they were about thirty-seconds from impacting us. Sari was frantically trying to direct the right flank to turn and face the charge, which was a tall order as they were in the middle of winning a different fight. I made a decision.

I whispered to Caliban with my mind, telling her what I wanted to do. I knew that it could be done. She had several abilities that she'd shared with me, and had hinted through her link to me of more. If I treated her well, perhaps one day she might reveal them. She agreed with my current suggestion, sending warmth through our mental link.

I found that she loved it when I relied upon her to direct my magic. I threw her towards the enemy. They were still too far away to hit, but she flew straight and true and stayed upright where she struck. I felt like she was preening a bit.

For just a moment, I considered the consequences of what I was about to do. I couldn't think of any other options. 

The line of galloping cavalry began to lower their lances in anticipation. They were outlined by the cloud of dust which they raised behind them. In contrast with their arms and armor shining in the light it made them look like heroes out of legend. I waited until they were just about to reach Caliban. I could feel her anticipation, like a lover near climax. I sensed that she wanted to impress me today.

I channelled my rage and fear into a burst of lightning, which I then directed through my link to Caliban. She did what she was made to do and amplified the effect and directed it so it wouldn't blow back towards our side. I was blinded for a moment, spots dancing in my vision. Before I could see again I heard the screams of the dying and smelled their burnt flesh.

As the afterimages cleared, I saw that the entire unit of lancers was a wreck. Horses and men lay mixed in the slag of their armor. The survivors were crawling away. It was far more spectacular than I had expected.

I walked out to where she still sat and picked her up, expressing through the way I held her my sincerest gratitude. She sent waves of feeling back which I have difficulty describing, but felt almost like a cat purring. One more devoted lover, I suppose. 

The problem was that the magic was both powerful and impressive. And the spear was an obvious part of what had occurred. That detail would catch the attention of those in power, and many of those would recognize the use of an artifact from the First Wars, which naturally could only be used by a Pureblood. There were very few of us unaccounted for on the continent, and none that were known to be serving with a mercenary company. It was possible, perhaps even likely that family would hear of the incident and investigate. That was the best case.

The possibility that I felt was more likely was that my father or brother or uncle had agents on the mainland, instructed to keep an eye out for me, just in case. I might have already been on someone's list. If so, this would bump me right to the top.

As soon as the battle settled down I ran back to camp. Every minute counted now. I decided not to say goodbye to anyone and simply slip away. Well, almost anyone. I caught up with Bartles as she was running messages.

"Hey, take this and tell Parla that I have to leave. I'll be killed if I stay, and perhaps others too. I don't really have any time to explain."

I had, as a preparation against this day, cut some of my un-dyed hair and bound it with twine. It was translucent, although it no longer had a sheen to it after I had shorn it. I threw it to Bartles along with a tiny sack, filled with precious gems. 

"The gems are for your future. Don't waste them or I'll know. The lock is so when you tell people that you knew a Pureblood they will believe you."

She looked at me and then the lock of hair, and then back at me again. She looked skeptical for a moment, but then her mouth dropped open in surprise. Even as she was about to reach her age of majority, she was still adorable.

"Do you want me to, um, say anything to Parla for you?"

I paused a moment, considering.

"Tell her that it has been an honor, and one day we may fight together again, if the gods will it."

I picked up my pack and Caliban and patted her on the head gently. Then I left, moving northwest towards Troyes and hopefully a return to anonymity.

* * *

They came after me in less than a week. I hadn't made it yet into the northern tracks. I was staying at a broken-down inn in Troyes, trying and failing to get information on what was happening at home. Typically there would be some sort of news from sailors, but aside from tidings of bad weather, there was nothing.

I had decided to head north at first light. Staying here was making me more and more anxious. I should have left sooner.

I woke up to a thump, clearly coming from within my room. My first thought was some drunk had managed to get inside my room and collapse. The locks here were not impressive. But it came from closer to the window. The window which was now open.

I jumped up and strode over. It was Raisa. She was on her side, obviously in pain, nearly in the fetal position. As I approached she tried to stand but I knelt beside her instead. She wasn't wearing her cowl or hood and in the dim candlelight I could see bruises forming on her face. Her lip was split and a thin trickle of blood came from her nose.

I immediately began to inspect her for other wounds. She had no cuts or stab wounds but when my hand pressed on her side she gasped. Her ribs were broken, badly. Maybe badly enough that she was bleeding inside. I cursed softly. I could heal her at least a little if I had time. I didn't.

"N...no," she said, weakly trying to push my hands away from her, "sent...kill...couldn't...stop...all...here!"

Her breaths were deep and ragged and she was paling even as I watched her. I hoped it was from the pain. I didn't understand everything that she had said but I got the gist. I closed my eyes and put my had protectively over hers. I spoke some words and the room filled with painfully bright light.

I spun to find one hooded killer fallen from the ceiling where she had been climbing and the other clutching at his eyes. He had been two strides behind me. I took out my dagger, walked over, and slit his throat, before turning and stabbing the other one in her eye before she could rise. I waited for a few seconds, cleaning my blade and putting it away. I wasn't certain that those were the only ones left, but I certainly wasn't going to spend any more time away from Raisa's side.

When I got back to her I began to cut the lacings on her armor. I could help her. I wasn't the greatest healer but I'd picked up a few spells for use after battle. The trickle of blood from her mouth was turning into something of a stream. She was coughing, choking on her own blood. Even then she was trying to push my hands away and gesture towards the door. It was clear that she wanted me to leave. I kept working as I spoke.

"Stop trying to be such a fucking martyr. You're my hero, all right? But you're my sister and I love you and I'm not going to let you die for me."

She ceased her struggles. She was crying, whether in pain or fear, I couldn't say. Finally I had removed enough of her armor and cut away the silken inner layer. I put my hands on her and chanted. 

Her back arched in pain as the splinters of her ribs removed and re-knit themselves. She relaxed, gasping, as her organs healed. Then she rolled over, got on her hands and knees, and vomited a relatively small amount of blood. I caught her before she collapsed into it.

Raisa was not going to die, but she had lost a great deal of blood and was most likely bruised all over. She would need bed rest. The bright side is that when none of the assassins came back it would likely be assumed that I had killed her.

I picked Raisa up and cradled her like a child. She was still so light and felt fragile in my arms. For a brief moment I listened to her slow breathing, both to reassure myself that she was well and to remember what she felt and sounded like. There was no guarantee that I'd see her again. I set her on the bed while I repacked my bag and slung Caliban. Then I carried her out into the night. I had to take my time to be sure that I wasn't being followed, but eventually I got where I was going.

You learn many things being a mercenary of dubious repute. For example, I knew every healer in the worst part of town, and which ones were trustworthy. I left Raisa at the tenement of a little-known witch. She asked no questions when I told her to take care of my sister and left more than enough money to cover her fee, expenses, and probably let her buy a new house elsewhere. 

Gods bless Raisa. I loved her more than I ever had. It broke my heart to leave her behind, but I knew that she would be safe now that my fucking family thought that she was dead. Curse them. I felt powerless but I knew that running was my best move. Any space I put between myself and my little sister made her safer, and, I reasoned, Seyla assassins were mostly trained to work in cities. In the wilderness, where I had become accustomed to hard living, we would be closer to equals, and I might even lose them. If I took one of the many trade trails which north, then west around the sea, then finally south again, it would lead me back to my family's kingdom. 

Home. I had no plans to go there. In fact, if I could I would double back and try to escape across the continent. But there, in the back of my mind, a vision was forming, against my will. After five years I wanted to get my hands around the throat of at least one of my family members. To make them talk and explain things to me. Or to simply die in the fires of my righteous hatred. 

So I followed the routes and blended into caravans carrying gold and luxuries north to trade for amber, dried fish, and whale oil. I had wrapped Caliban up in worn leather so she looked like a plain walking staff. She didn't complain, which I appreciated. This is how I found myself in the wastes, a month later, heading towards Jorvik, with riders approaching me fast from the South.


	7. Big Sister

==============================================  
CHAPTER SEVEN  
==============================================

Now

"Really? You're going to throw your only weapon away? I taught you better than that."

It was another voice. A little higher pitched. Throaty. Feminine. Commanding. I recognized her too, of course. I even got an erection because my cock didn't really care how much trouble the rest of me was in.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," I said softly, "this is entirely unfair."

I relaxed my stance. This person, at least, I really didn't want to kill.

With fluid ease she dismounted her horse. She unsheathed her sword and handed it to Kyrza on her way past. I decided to do the same. I let go of Caliban and she remained there, floating. It was a neat trick that I mostly used to look mysterious and impress people. I met her about twenty paces away, roughly halfway between my spear and her soldiers. 

She removed her helm. I sighed, in sorrow, nostalgia, and anticipation. Adewyn was just as beautiful as I remembered. Perhaps more so as she had grown into her body. She wore her pure white hair short, and it was sweaty and unruly from being in her helm. She was tall for a woman, but not quite as tall as I. Her fine armor could not cover her shapely form, at least not entirely. I knew that beneath it she was toned muscle but also soft slopes. She had athletically curved hips and fine breasts, not large but pert and with deep red nipples. Her skin appeared tan and was naturally slightly darker than mine. I wondered if she still trimmed her sex. All this I remembered easily.

Adewyn had her full brother's aristocratic features and proud nose. I did not wish to be reminded of Tyr just now and her allegiance to him, so I pressed down my rage for the moment.

"Why are we not fighting?" I asked.

"Because I didn't come here to fight. And because you don't want to die."

I laughed. It was bitter, but honest.

"Times have changed. I don't want to fight you because I don't want to kill you. If you hadn't spoken up I'd be full of regret by now."

She raised one eyebrow skeptically.

"It doesn't matter. I'm here to find you but not to kill you. Or capture you. I'm...I'm not here on father's behalf, or Tyr's. Not really."

"Then who?"

"Mine. Yours. The kingdom."

"You're going to have to be a bit more specific than that."

It was her turn to sigh. I noticed that throughout our little conversation she had difficulty meeting my eyes. It was a shame as hers were the dark blue of the sea during a storm. I couldn't tell if her reticence was due to deceit or guilt.

"I can be. I want to be. But do we have to do this? I mean, can we make camp and sit in a tent and speak...like we used to? Before...before..." she stopped and rubbed the back of her head the way she did when frustrated or unsure. 

"All right. We'll talk. I don't think it will be like old times though."

"Why not?"

I smiled like the wolf I had become but did not answer.

We pitched camp next to a small stand of pines and a spring of clear water that probably froze every night. I had no tent but at Adewyn's insistence I put my bedroll and pack inside of hers. I didn't bother unrolling it. When we were done, she gave some orders to Kyrza, and she waved me into her tent. I went in cautiously. I left Caliban embedded in the soft earth next to a pine tree. She would warn me if anything untoward happened outside or someone was foolish enough to touch her.

After we sat down Adewyn offered me some wine and stale bread. We ate and drank in silence for a few minutes. Finally, she spoke.

"I need you."

"I don't need you."

"Are you sure?"

"I haven't truly needed anyone for five years. Why do you need me?"

"I...fuck. Look, can we clear something up first?"

I nodded and waited for her to speak.

"I didn't know that Tyr planned to kill you. I didn't even know any details for over a year. And by that time...I thought that it was too late to do anything about it. He told me that he had heard that you were going to try and usurp him and father, so he confronted you and you attacked him. In the struggle you were stabbed and thrown out of the window. It bothered me. Even considering how much you cared for Merwyd it didn't make much sense to me. Finally I cornered him and demanded the truth. He admitted that he struck first but he still insisted that you had been plotting against him."

"And you believed him after the first lie?"

"Yes. I'm stupid. And I loved him. You know I did."

"Once you told me that you loved me. But I'm sure you fucked my would-be killer and slept soundly in his arms afterwards. For a year, at least, probably much more."

She reacted as though I had slapped her in the face. She always had a soft, or perhaps I should say wet, spot for Tyr. 

"I...I know. I still believed him. I did. I thought that you had truly revolted, or planned some kind of coup. For love. It seemed like something that you might do. We all knew that you were still sleeping with Merwyd and smitten with her. Probably more than she was with you. So it wasn't that big of a stretch to think that you might try something desperate."

I started to move towards the tent to leave.

"I've heard enough. You sit in my presence and defend him still. I owe you nothing. Don't seek me again."

She reached out and grabbed my arm as I reached for my pack. I tensed and looked at her. She tentatively released me.

"Please. Just listen. I'm not...not defending him. I'm not even defending myself. I'm just explaining. Even after I knew that he struck first, I still loved him. Would you have had me kill one brother to avenge another? Who might have been a traitor?"

"Yes."

"Things aren't that simple and you know it."

"I think that you'll find that outside of Marche Grodayn things are much simpler. There are your friends and there are your enemies. Kill one and save the other. You made your choice. Why are you here now? How can you expect me to help you?"

"Something is wrong. The kingdom is falling apart. Rebellion has spread south and the lesser houses are taking notice of the opportunity to strike out on their own. Tyr isn't acting normally and I can't find father, although I know he is somewhere in the North. Possibly in Jorvik. And Uncle Bayrd has been left in charge at Marche Grodayn but he was prohibited from taking any action."

I had my suspicions at this point, based on what Raisa had told me. I had no proof, however, so I kept them to myself.

"What would you have me do?"

"Help me to help Tyr. Or come with me and speak to Bayrd. Or help me find father. Or just reassure the people and the army that someone is in charge. After all the strange things that I have seen I believe that you were not treated fairly. That you were loyal. If we can't find father so that he can help Tyr to recover...then I'll support your claim to the throne."

"Why does Tyr need help? Is he sick?"

She looked away from me, at the ground. I had never seen her display such...shame? I tried not to let it show but it bothered me. Despite what I had said, I knew her to be ethical, and once sworn she would be loyal. I was prodding her, yes, but to see what her responses would be. She would be loyal to Tyr because he had claimed her a few months before I had been attacked. And she had loved him and probably even me at one point. The fact that she was conflicted at all was, to me, strange.

"He...I...I can't talk about it."

Adewyn brought her arms up and hugged herself. She still hadn't looked at me. I was concerned for her now, although I didn't want her to know it. She was a defiant woman, strong, who loathed to show any fear or weakness. Both her mother and father had similar habits, and they seemed to only intensify in her. Of all of my relatives the army respected her the most. She was the second oldest sibling, and used to being obeyed or at least respected. Her posture now was not that of a commander of armies but more like that of a lost child.

"What if I agreed to look for father with you first? But nothing else. I cannot even truly promise that I won't kill him if I see him, if he was behind or supported my assassination."

"I can accept that. As long as you agree to claim the throne if we can't find him."

I raised my eyebrows in shock.

"Claim the throne? Even if Tyr is alive?"

She bit her lip, but nodded. 

Adewyn's response surprised me a bit. While I was distracted with the implications of it, she moved her hand to my leg, which startled me. When she had my attention she looked at me with her deep blue eyes and smiled. In the confines of the tent I became suddenly aware of her smell, sweaty and musky. My cock responded.

I realized that I had much more desire for Adewyn than trust or love. I frowned and shook my head. She drew her hand back as if I had burned her, and I could see the hurt in her eyes.

I wish I could say that this didn't affect me. That I had grown cold and used to being alone. I wanted to be free of old bonds, free to avenge myself properly. 

But part of me still wanted to hold Adewyn, to make love to her. Sleep came with some difficulty that night.

So started the long path back home. I look back now and question how I could ever have thought it would be as simple and straight-forward as vengeance.


	8. Scars

==============================================  
CHAPTER EIGHT  
==============================================

Jorvik was busy, even for the late harvest season. The port was bustling and the forges were hot. The people, however, were even more sullen and suspicious than normal. I was used to the "courtesy" of the North, and I knew something was wrong. 

Rebellion was so thick in the air you could almost smell it. Everywhere you could hear commoners speculate on the King, Duke Eorvane, and even the Guilds of the City. Each was suspected of conspiring against at least one of the others. The only solid bet I would take is that the Duke was readying his army to march towards the best opportunity, whether that was independence, defense, or even for the crown. 

When we arrived we went straight to the Ducal Palace, a hulk of grey stone and barred windows that squatted on the hill at the center of the city. Adewyn and I had decided to let Kyrza speak for us until we'd reached Eorvane. We weren't sure what kind of reception we'd get or if the Duke was involved in father's disappearance. Eorvane was generally honorable, as these things go, but I suspected all nobles of being as loyal as their opportunities.

When we arrived, the majority of the troops were made to wait outside in the courtyard, but as Kyrza's "lieutenants" we were allowed to wait with her in a well-appointed room with fur rugs, plush chairs, and a roaring fire.

I took my gloves off and held them before the hearth, although I left my helm on. This was the first time that I'd felt warm in weeks and I was happily taking advantage of it. Adewyn had unmasked and raised her eyebrow but said nothing. Her disapproval became palpable when the Duke and his entourage entered the room and I did not rise.

The Duke was a bear of a man: tall, burly, and hairy. His beard sprawled over his face like black ivy, and his thinning hair was braided down his back. He was at least fifty, but had the energy and capacity for drink of a much younger man.

"Kyrza. Good to see you. We've been waiting for news from Marche Grodayn for some time and...well."

He did a good job of concealing his surprise when he saw Adewyn. He knew her of course, and she would stand out anywhere with her bright white hair. He ignored me, which was what I wanted.

"Duke Eorvane, you have my respects and those of my family," Adewyn said, always the dutiful girl. The Duke wasn't feeling quite as diplomatic.

"Adewyn. Your family has an odd way to show respect. We ask for assistance in putting down my rather disobedient neighbors. Beg for it, almost. And what news do I hear? That the King, your own father, was marching here to put Jorvik to the sword! I ought to have you in chains for this. Perhaps he'd listen to me if his dear daughter was in my hands, eh?"

Adewyn was surprised, and took her time responding. She was holding back her anger, but just barely. I decided to help. I laughed rather loudly. Eorvane looked in my direction, his eyes blazing.

"You dare! I might arrest her but she would be treated well. I assure you that you will spend some time in chains..."

"If you want to arrest either of us," I said, slowly standing and removing my helm, "then you'll need a few dozen more men. Good ones too, not your usual drunken northerners. And maybe a capable chamberlain to remind you of what happens to those that detain princes of Pure Blood"

I looked different. My hair was shorn fairly short, and I had a beard. I had ceased dying it a few weeks back and the natural white was starting to show through. He took a moment and examined me.

"Finn?" he said finally, with a little bit of shock, "By the gods it is you! You damned lout! I thought you were dead! Everyone did!"

Just like that the tension was gone. If it was ever there. Adewyn looked very annoyed with me, which was a nice side benefit.

"Even I did, but it turns out I was just in Troyes."

"In the South that bull about you being a rebel might have flown, but up here we knew you wouldn't try to take the throne. You're too damn smart to want any actual power getting in the way of your womanizing."

I laughed.

"Do you think we could talk with you? In private? We need your help."

"Yes. Of course!" He looked over at Adewyn, rather sheepishly, "I would never have had you arrested...it was a strategy to get you talking, nothing more. Come. Lets get you some food and drink and then we can get to business."

We were led to a small but opulent meeting room, where we ate cold meat and cheese and drank fine wine. No one spoke of anything important, and we joked as if were all old friends. Even Adewyn told a bawdy tale about a milk maid and three knights. It was nice. But all nice things must end. The food was cleared and we were left alone.

"So," the Duke said, "things must be serious if a prince and a princess are here to see me. Especially when one is dead and the other is married to the heir."

"I'm not," Adewyn said suddenly, "Married to the heir. Not any more."

Eorvane's and I both looked over at her in surprise. That wasn't something that happened to Pureblood women. Almost ever. She blushed and neither I nor the Duke was going to press her on it. It would have been asking her specifically how her humiliation took place.

"Well," she went on, capitalizing on our silence, "Father is missing. He's supposed to be somewhere in the North. Maybe even here. And things at home are...well, they aren't normal. We're trying to reach him to tell him what is going on and persuade him to come back. Has he been here?"

Duke Eorvane sat back in his chair. It was obvious to both myself and Adewyn that his surprise was not acting. After a long moment of silent consideration, he spoke.

"I can swear to you that I've not seen your father in two years. And even then it was back in Marche Grodayn, to speak to him about the troubles up here. He assured me that Tyr would be coming north with an army and all would be well, but that never happened. Tyr and your Uncle did come, but there was no army. He wished to undertake the Journey as soon as possible. When he was done, he went home. He barely spoke two words to me the entire time he was here. You two are the first of the royal line that I've seen since then."

Adewyn looked at me, her face devoid of expression. She didn't know about the Journey. Only men were told. And then only royalty and the heads of noble houses. I would get her caught up later though.

"Did he pass?" I asked, simply.

"He certainly survived to return home. I learned later from the Keeper that your uncle also took the Journey. I know that isn't the way things are done, generally. Unless you have something to tell me?"

"I don't. Neither of us do. All of this is...strange. Will you help us? To find father? And to deal with my brother and uncle, if it comes to that."

"Finn," he said, stroking his beard thoughtfully, "I think you know that up here in the North those of us who are loyal to your family would prefer to see you in charge over Tyr or god help us, your uncle. Especially along side Adewyn."

Adewyn looked flattered by that. The army loved her, so the North loved her too. She was always seen in the field, never hiding in a castle or dressed for a ball. She would be ideal at dealing with people like Eorvane. He went on.

"But I can't support Finn the Usurper. Even if I don't think the tales are true."

He finished. I rather assumed that was that, but Adewyn didn't.

"What version of Finn could you support?" she asked, craftily.

He smiled at her.

"A good question. Well, now that it comes to it, I could support Finn the Rightful Heir. I could even support Finn the King. But for that, he'd have to take the Journey, wouldn't he? And survive without out going mad, of course."

"Of course," I agreed, wryly, "It would be a shame if I died. All right. I'll take the Journey, and Adewyn will be my Guard. When I return from that, we can speak to the Comdail of the North, and I can make some concessions and threats, and see who falls in line and who doesn't."

The Duke nodded and smiled widely. He would be happy, after all. If he backed me and I ended up on the throne he would end up being my main supporter in the North, and I'd have to be his very best friend. Well, I had no intention of taking the throne, but he wasn't the worst person to be friends with, not by a long shot.

"Go and get some rest, both of you. I'll get you some rooms. Tomorrow the Keeper will take you down to the caverns," Eorvane said, pausing for a moment as if he had thought of something, "On the bright side, if you go mad, no one will be able to tell."

Then he laughed a long time at his own joke. So did Adewyn, to my dismay. 

* * *

When we arrived at our rooms, which were quite well appointed, the storm that was brewing between myself and Adewyn broke in earnest. For my part, I will say that I did nothing to stop it, which isn't my proudest moment.

Kyrza and her men, sensing trouble, disappeared pretty quickly. I wished that I could join them. I didn't want to deal with this right now.

"What the fuck is this Journey? Why didn't you tell me about it?" Adewyn demanded. Well, at least she wasn't shouting.

"It's the last requirement of kingship. Technically it happens after being crowned, but it could happen before. It's not generally shared with, uh, women. Even royal ones."

"Why the fuck not?"

Why the fuck not, indeed. I could see no good reason for that, but several bad ones. I was, however, not in any mood to be a peacemaker.

"Because it isn't any of your business. Not that you'd understand that, being who you are. The short version is that it reveals great wisdom but can kill you or leave you insane if you fail to rise to it. Perhaps they were afraid that women like you would see this as an opportunity to expand their power or select someone they preferred to survive."

"What do you mean, 'like me'?" she said, softly and dangerously.

This is where, had I been thinking, I would have said something truthful but not incendiary. Or even just hugged her. I did not do either of those things.

"I suppose I mean plotters and liars."

"What?"

"You heard me. Were you going to tell me that Tyr had discarded you like an overly tumbled tavern wench?"

Looking back, if she had stabbed me at this point I would have had a hard time blaming her. 

"How dare you say that to me! I found you! I...I believed you!"

"Sure. A few years too late, but who's counting. And did you believe me? Or did you just need someone to go force your beloved Tyr to take you back and then perhaps conveniently die?"

She stepped forward and slapped me, hard. 

"That's more like it," I said, throwing caution to the wind, "Adewyn the Proud, delivering just punishment to her impudent younger brother. I don't fear you any more and I see no reason to help you to return to Tyr's side. And I won't be his stand in until you do."

I moved to the door. I expected something to be thrown at me or hurtful words to be shouted in my direction. Or perhaps even to hear the sound of an unsheathed sword. I would have preferred those, because then I could continue to be righteously indignant.

What I did not expect was her to be speaking softly and bitterly, almost in a whisper.

"I know I'm not who you want. I know I'm a bad sister. Please forgive me."

I stopped and turned around. I wasn't really sure why. After all I had just been treating my sister quite badly. Why would I be concerned now?

She was drawn into herself, arms wrapped around her torso, looking down at the floor.

"I know I should have asked more questions. I know I should have done...something. Once I understood that you hadn't started the fight, I knew that you never conspired to kill Tyr. But you were dead, and it was too late. And Merwyd was his favorite, and had borne a daughter already, so I...I had to do more to stay in his life. I know I'm not worth the same as her. I understand that, but...but I'm not all bad. As soon as I heard that you were alive and that Uncle had sent killers after you I left with Kyrza. I thought...well...maybe it doesn't matter."

"Go on," I said, already feeling a kind of guilt that I wasn't very familiar with, "what did you think?"

"I thought that it was a chance to make up for what I hadn't done before. You won't believe me, but even if Tyr hadn't...hadn't released me, I'd have tried to find you first. It was blind luck that I decided to head north. I thought you might take the amber routes to Jorvik, because the Eorvane trusted you. I just thought...I thought that if I protected you, served you, like a good sister, you might forgive me. I know its selfish."

This whole time she was looking down, away from me. I was even more disturbed with this behavior the second time. What had happened to this confident woman to make her unable to look at me? Granted, there was unfortunate history between us, but I knew in my heart that I was the one being stubborn in my little persecution complex. The truth was that she had come for me and offered to help me. And then offered herself in another way. The only string attached was that I didn't act completely selfishly and tried to help out the people. 

"It isn't selfish," I said, hugging her, "It's noble. You're noble. I'm sorry. I'm...I'm very angry, and I'm taking it all out on you. And you aren't the cause of any of my trouble, not really."

Adewyn tensed up at first when she felt my arms around her, but then she melted into me, turning and burying her head in my chest. It was hard to remember sometimes that she was shorter than I was. She was always my older sister, strong and proud, unafraid to take charge and do what had to be done.

I felt a warm wetness through my tunic and I realized that she had ben crying silently. I didn't know what else to do so I led her to one of the bedrooms and shut the door. Although it runs counter to my reputation, I wasn't thinking of sex at that moment. I mostly wanted privacy, so she could act how she needed to and not put up a front for Kyrza and the soldiers. I sat her down on the bed and sat back against the head board. Without prompting she laid down and put her head in my lap. 

I gently stroked her short white hair. I had always loved how the boyish cut looked on her. It made her look bold and, well, erotic, especially when she was telling me to get out of my clothes and into her bed. I forgot how soft it was. How it felt when I ran my fingers through it. I was going to ask her a question but I noticed that she was sleeping. Soundly.

I guess I knew who trusted who. I felt a reasonable amount of shame at my previous behavior, and let her sleep. Watching her face, relaxed and calm, had an effect on me as well. I remembered laying in bed with her as a much younger man. She'd taught me much about pleasing women, and had been quite a giving lover as well as trainer. I'd felt a bit heartbroken when she told me that she would be with Tyr and that our time would inevitably end. Maybe that was the first time that I truly resented him. I kept it pretty well hidden, or I thought I did.

My uncle saw it, though. He told me when we would go out drinking together. At the time I thought it was just commiseration, but now...

My reverie was broken when Adewyn woke. She sat up suddenly, her face red.

"Oh," she said, simply.

"Yes?"

"I, uh, didn't mean to fall asleep."

"You might have needed to, though. And I didn't mind. It gave me a chance to watch you. To remember how I felt about you, and how you truly are."

She looked away from me, and her voice had a quaver to it when she spoke.

"I thought you didn't need me."

"I thought so too. I was wrong. I often am. More often than when I was just the lesser son."

She laughed, softly. It was sincere and vulnerable. Like her.

"You've never been lesser. None of your sisters think so. I know."

She turned to face me. I reached out and stroked her face, softly, felt how her skin alternated between soft but rough from being in the wind and weather. She leaned into my palm, and then, looking me in the eye, kissed it.

"Will you make me yours?" Adewyn asked. It was a loaded question. She wanted more than physical affection. I still nodded. I felt a bit more clear-headed now. I had discovered, watching her sleep, that I wanted more than to survive in comfortable anonymity.

"I'll claim you, but I'm not going to release if I do. I can't lose anyone else to Tyr. If you still love him, then I'll do everything I can to help and protect you but I won't do any more," I found that I was nervous saying this. Even after all I had been through I still got as anxious as a lovesick teen with fear of my older sister rejecting me.

She looked at me, with a mix of longing and sadness.

"I should have asked you to run away with me before you were betrayed. I did love Tyr, but not any more. I don't think I've truly loved him for years. I tried to convince myself that I did, but I love you. I never really stopped. You have an annoying way of making women fall for you, even or perhaps especially when you don't intend to."

I laughed.

"Are you saying my charisma is accidental? Well, I suppose its better than not having any at all. As I've already said, I love you, so I'm willing..."

Her face fell so suddenly that I thought that I'd said something wrong. She held her hand up, palm towards me.

"I'm...I'm glad. But there's something that I need to show you. It might make me...less attractive as a prospective wife or concubine. So you should know about it before you make any oaths."

Adewyn was ever the dutiful daughter and sister. I didn't know what she was going to show me, but I braced myself. Not so much because I thought I might have to reject her but because I didn't want to display any reactions that might make her think that I was disgusted with her. I'd hurt her enough recently.

Adewyn, blushing slightly, slowly unbuttoned her military-style jacket and removed it. She had a simple loose white tunic underneath, that she removed, and then some binding to keep her breasts from moving too much and out of the way. 

Speaking of Adewyn's breasts, they were, if anything, better than I had remembered them. The last time we'd been together as lovers was over seven years ago, and I suppose she had done a little extra growing. Her chest had filled out and now it was quite easy to see how feminine she truly was, as the upward curve of her breasts led to her pink, compact nipples. They were small and hard now, though, showing her eagerness. Her muscle tone had remained, especially obvious with her naturally tanned skin, and the definition on her arms and abdomen was notable. I couldn't see it under her trousers but I knew that her ass would be muscular and firm as well. In short, she was intensely desirable to anyone who enjoyed the company of women, and I was confused with her earlier statement. Until she turned around.

Despite my contrary intent, I still gasped a little when I saw the scars, which made her look down again and me feel like a righteous jackass. It wasn't with disgust, however. It was shock.

She had a series of uneven, almost jagged, vertical furrows on her back. They ran from her shoulders all the way down to the small of her back. Awful scars, which had clearly healed badly. If I didn't know better, I'd have said that she fell under some kind of alchemical torture. I did know better, however, and the wounds were made by magic. Dark magic. The kind that demons and fools used.

"Who did this to you?" I asked, quietly.

"It doesn't matter," she replied too quickly. A rehearsed comment or one that she repeated to others or herself.

"It does," I said, with calm that surprised even me, "because I'm going to kill them."

She swallowed, nervously, but did not respond. I moved towards her on the bed and put one hand on her arm, and then lightly stroked one of the scars with the fingers of my left hand. My intent was to show that I was not disgusted with them. As I lightly brushed the first mark, however, she twitched.

"Did that hurt?"

She nodded.

"Do they all hurt like that?"

She nodded again. I could see the glint of tears from the side of her cheek. I was incensed almost beyond words. 

"Can nothing be done to soothe them? Or heal them?"

"They are healing...but very slowly. I have an ointment that I put on every day. Sometimes I ask Kyrza to help me. She's loyal and doesn't talk about my secrets. I've gone to a temple healer, but they weren't able to help. Regardless, every month they get a little better, a little smaller. The healer told me that in a few years I won't be able to feel them at all."

"Gods, Adewyn. How could I have stayed away when this was happening to you?" I didn't intend for her to answer, but she turned and smiled at me, tears in her eyes.

"What would you have done? Come home and died trying to save me? Brave and pointless death is for other men. Believe me when I say they are a small price to pay to see you alive. And to hear you say you love me."

I sighed and held her head in my hands so that I could look her in the eyes. And so that she couldn't look away. I needed her to understand how serious I was when I took the oath.

"You are property of this prince. No other may have you, without killing me."

Her tears flowed freely now, and she let out a little sob. I drew her to me and held her, careful not to touch her scars.

"W...will you put some ointment on them now? If it doesn't make you feel...uh....bad. They won't hurt for a few hours, and it will be easier for us to...to make love."

She went over to her satchel and got a small jar that she handed to me. Then she thought for a moment, and stripped off her trousers and panties. Well, she no longer shaved, but her small thatch of hair made me want to throw her down and bury my tongue in her sex. First things first though. 

I stripped as she lay down on her stomach. She looked at me, hungrily. 

"Oh. I've missed that. You've picked up a few more muscles. And scars." She said as she stretched out and rested her head on the pillow.

"Yeah. Mercenary life will do that. I've been a lot luckier than most of the people I know. I swear to god Sari is just one continuous scar by now."

I straddled her, resting some of my weight on her shapely ass. I made no attempt to conceal how hard I was from just being in her presence. Her scars were awful, but they did not detract from her beauty. They made her seem vulnerable, and awoke long-dormant urges to protect and care fro her. She certainly was capable of standing on her own, but that didn't mean I couldn't help her.

I put some of the ointment on my hands and warmed it. I found that it had a slightly cooling effect. I began to slowly and gently spread it on her back. She tensed up at first, whether in pain or fear I did not know, but soon relaxed. I massaged her gently, making sure to cover every part of every scar. She made a small noise in her throat. Then I wiped my hands off on my discarded tunic, and started to rub the muscles in her firm ass, then the soft skin of her thighs, and finally her shapely calves. She moaned and her breathing became slightly ragged.

"Has it been a while?" I asked.

"For massages or for fucking? It doesn't matter, the answer is yes to both. I bet you had your regular string of women on campaign."

Adewyn had said the last sentence with some poorly concealed bitterness. 

"No. I've only slept with one woman for...well I guess its been five years. And even then, fairly irregularly."

She snorted a disdainful laugh.

"Come on. You don't have to lie to me. I'm your big sister, and, oh fuck that feels good...and you know I'm going to let you do whatever you want to me. So how many was it, really?"

"One. The answer won't change no matter how many times you ask. I do care for her, but such is the way of things that we couldn't always be together."

"Well, I suppose that you don't have any reason to lie to me. You have changed in more ways than I expected. God I missed your hands. I remember how you used to make me cum with them in the mornings when we didn't have a lot of time. Every day was so much better after that."

Her eyes were still closed but she was smiling at the memory. I did too. There are fewer things that bring me more joy than giving my sisters pleasure.

To that I end I reached one hand down between her soft inner thighs and lightly stroked the lips of her pussy. She was very wet and made a loud noise, deep in her throat. 

"Oh god. I'm so ready for you, Finn. So fucking ready. Do...do you want me to put on a shirt, first?"

I playfully spanked her, careful to go nowhere near any of her scars. 

"No. I want to see all of you goddammit. I didn't claim you to hide you. Don't ever be ashamed of yourself in my presence. You've become even more beautiful since the last time I saw you."

"Liar," she said as I moved off of her so that she could roll over. She was smiling as she said it.

"If only there was some way I could prove to you how much I desired you. Some act we could preform that would make both of us feel satisfied and loved. Oh well, guess I'll be going then..." As I gave my sarcastic little speech I started to move to the foot of the bed before Adewyn threw a pillow at my head with deadly accuracy. I laughed after I had dropped it to the floor.

"Get back here and take care of your older sister. She's...goddammit I'm so horny right now I....oh fuck....yes...fuck...oh god like that please don't stop..."

I cut off her frustrated speech by moving straight over and burying my face in her wet slit, as I'd wanted to since I saw her again. Her scent, long familiar to me in my lonesome nights, filled my nose and her taste....gods she was musky but pure. The taste of desire, matured and intensified.

I used no technique, no tricks. I just allowed my tongue and eventually my fingers to explore her while she gasped and bucked and moaned underneath me. I spread her with my fingers, and pushed my tongue inside her as far I sit would go. I flicked it over her clitoris and sucked it into my mouth. I tasted very part of her lips. I was dying of thirst and she was the only spring. I felt her tense and grind against my face. I stopped for a moment and then started up again. Every time I brought her to the edge, but I refused to take her over. 

"Oh, fuck. Please...please Finn let me...I need it so badly from you..."

She even tried to touch herself to finish but I wouldn't allow her. Her words devolved into whimpers and moans. Then I began to finger her in earnest, hooking them so I stroked her g-spot and licking her clitoris all over with my tongue while sucking it into my mouth. 

Denied for so long, Adewyn's orgasm began deep within her, starting with her pussy clenching over my fingers and her legs tightening over my shoulders like a vise. Her hands began to grasp at my short hair and push my head down ever harder. Her back began to arch and shudder, her head rolled helplessly on the pillow. She began to cry out, simple animal noises of lust as the orgasm took her and had its way with her, much as I had. As her cries turned to sobs I kept working on her, her body trembling and tense, and finally collapsing on itself, limply.

"Oh....gods....Finn....gods..."

I crawled up to her and smiled smugly at her while I gently stroked her hair. I was pleased at her inability to form sentences. She leaned up suddenly and kissed me, intensely, passionately, her agile tongue forcing its way into my mouth. She held my head with one of her hands so that I could not escape her, and suddenly she rolled me over with her body, straddling me and holding me still with her strong leg muscles. My hard, throbbing cock was pinned between her soaking womanhood and my own stomach. I moaned, loudly, involuntarily. Fuck. I wanted her so badly, and she knew it.

"You fucking tease. You've become a better lover, too. I haven't cum like that since....well I don't know. Ever?"

She was her regular aggressive and confident self again, and that made me even happier than the pleasure I had brought her. Adewyn without her strength and will was like a lioness with no fangs. It wasn't right and I would make the person that had hurt her suffer. 

My thoughts of righteous revenge were interrupted as she began to rub her slit up and down my cock. It was my turn to moan in need and have difficulty thinking.

"Oh? Do you like that little brother? Have you missed your sister's cunt?"

"So much. I've missed...oh fuck...I've missed you, Adewyn. I never stopped...oh fuck...loving you."

I hadn't really meant to say that. It's amazing the truths that slip out when your sister is rubbing her slick wet folds over you and not letting you enter her. She stopped briefly, looking at me with a fiercely serious expression.

"Is that true, Finn? Have you still loved me all of these years? Even...even when you knew that you couldn't have me?"

"I was ashamed of it. I hated myself for it. I resented Tyr although we were still brothers. But yes. I've loved you since before you broke things off with me. I wanted you as soon as I heard your voice again. I didn't want you to know because I never wanted to be vulnerable again."

Adewyn rose up for a moment, and then put her hand on the side of my face. Then she slowly and tenderly leaned in and kissed me. It wasn't rough or passionate. It was slow and caring.

"Don't worry, Finn. Big sister is here to take care of you now. No more teasing."

She seized my shaft in that firm but gentle way that only she knew, and rose up above me on her knees. As she locked eyes with me she positioned herself over me, and then slowly allowed gravity to impale her on my cock. I had my hands on her hips and barely resisted the urge to pull her down faster. I think she would have stopped me if I had. Not because it might hurt, but because she wanted to draw things out, to make me cum as hard as she could.

"Oh, fuck, Adewyn. How the fuck do you feel this good?"

As she slid onto me she gripped me with her internal muscles, hurting me but only in the best way. Finally, I filled her completely. I moaned and she whimpered but she wouldn't move. When I tried to move her with my hands, she grabbed my wrists and pulled them away.

"Oh? Is that a little frustrating for you? Being inside your big sister but unable to take what you desire?" she teased. 

"Gods, Adewyn, why are you doing this to me?" I barely managed to get out, even though I knew the answer. I was briefly tempted to use magic to turn the tables on her but in my distracted state I could end up being more forceful than I intended.

"Because I want to hear you say it. Say it, and I'll give you what you want. And more."

"I need you Adewyn. And now I need your cunt. Please..."

"Ah," she said, beginning to move up and down, "that's my good boy. I missed your, oh gods, begging. And your fucking amazing cock."

I was stronger than I had been the last time that we'd made love. I seized her hips and began to push with her and pull her down onto my cock, heedless of bruising her, and her moans and chirps only encouraged me to do more. Our last time had been slow, sensual, and a little sad. Not so, now. This was joyous and rough, like sailing through a storm. She rode me hard enough that I realized that I would have bruises where her hands gripped my chest and where her muscular ass impacted my thighs. If she'd had long nails, I would have been bleeding quite a bit already.

The pain only made it better. I needed her, truly I was not just speaking sweet words. I needed her and I needed to plant my seed deep within her. I'd felt that way before, but I can honestly say that I'd never truly been driven by the urge to get a woman with child before. At that moment I wanted that more than breath or water. 

I felt her spasming around my shaft already. She seized up briefly and I could tell that the orgasm took her by surprise. I took advantage of her mental confusion. I sat up and rolled her over onto her back. Thankfully the ointment kept her from feeling any pain. I was not gentle. She gasped even as she continued to cum. I put her thighs up under my stomach, her calves on my shoulders. I wanted to fuck her hard and deep, so I did.

I began to pound into her, ruthlessly. She moved her arms up to my torso and I grabbed her wrists and held them, roughly.

"Finn, you're so fucking hard. I've never felt it like this. Please fill me, love. Make me yours again. Own your sister's wet pussy."

Her words drove me harder and hearing her speak my name like she did made me wild with desire. I was incapable of speech. I could only grunt and moan. Her own moans began to build again, until she began to cry out with each savage thrust. I should have worried that I was hurting her, but I was beyond such concerns.

As her tight pussy gripped me with her largest orgasm, I came as well. I nearly passed out, which was new to me. I came over and over, driving into her and holding myself there, imagining her womb filling with my fertile cum. She gripped and spasmed my cock, her back arched, her final scream echoing in the small room, her sex bathing my cock in more of her warm fluids before she collapsed limply onto the sheets. 

The servants definitely heard that.

Finally, after she had drained me dry, I rolled off of her. She made a small, mournful noise as my cock left her and our mixed fluids poured out of her. I found the sight to be extremely satisfying. I felt that I had marked her as mine. As I looked down, her soft gaze and gentle smile seemed to agree with me.

I lay beside her and she rolled close to me, laying her head on my chest. It was the first time she had done so in years. I felt the old connection we had return, and with greater force. I felt loved. 

"Oh gods. You can't leave me now. Not after what you've just done to me," she said.

She laughed, deep in her throat and nuzzled into my chest. Soon she was breathing slowly and regularly, asleep.

I stayed awake a little longer. For once I wasn't afraid of my dreams or worried about what the day would bring, I just wanted to be with her like that, in peace. It's still one of my better memories.

The events of the next day would make me glad for it.


	9. Wisdom of the Dar

==============================================  
CHAPTER NINE  
==============================================

"Finn, wake up, she's here!"

For once, I didn't panic but rolled over slowly, stretching. I had been the little spoon, which was a nice change of pace.

"Yes," I said simply, "she is indeed here."

"Godammit, Finn, its Raisa! She was the one that uncle sent to kill you!"

I chuckled and looked over at Raisa. I wasn't surprised to see her there. She was sitting crosslegged on an overstuffed chair that she had somehow silently moved to the foot of the bed. She was without her cowl or hood, and was slicing and eating an apple with deliberate and intense calm.

I'd never seen someone eat an apple threateningly before. It was somewhat impressive. Adewyn was sitting up, halfway between getting up and running across the room for her sword and looking at me in an adorably confused fashion.

"Calm down, Adewyn. I told you that I had only one lover for the last five years. There she is."

Raisa's attempts to be intimidating faltered a little as she gave away a small smile at my admission that there had been no others that whole time. Then she resumed glaring at us. Well, me really. It had been my cock that had dared enter her sister, after all. 

Adewyn looked at me, nonplussed. 

"Raisa was working for you? This whole time? No wonder you stayed out of sight."

I nodded.

"With me. Raisa was working with me. As you are. I don't think I'm in any position to be giving orders to my dear sisters. In fact, I would have been dead several times without her intervention. She saved my life. Not to mention kept me from...well...going mad."

Adewyn reconsidered Raisa as if seeing her for the first time. I knew that it was easy for her siblings to underestimate her. To her credit, Raisa simply sat there and smugly ate her apple.

"So," Raisa said finally, "Was this your plan? Ditching me so you could get back together with the Ice Dragon?" She said the latter dismissively as she gestured vaguely towards my bed partner with her knife. Adewyn's eyes were huge. It was hard to say if she was more shocked or angry with Raisa's casual insult.

Hoo boy. This was not going well. I hoped that this was not the first time that Adewyn had heard this particular nickname. The army called her that too but they said it with more warmth. I decided that direct and transparent was the best way to go to prevent a fight in my bedroom.

"Don't start acting like a damn foolish fishwife now, Raisa. You had pieces of your ribs in your lungs. You had lost...god knows how much blood. I did what I could for you but I knew you needed at least a week to rest. And I wasn't going to endanger you further by hiding with you or trying to bring you along. If you had died I wouldn't have forgiven myself. Ever. So tell me what's really bothering you."

Raisa huffed rather pettily (and prettily). 

"Well, Finn, princes may sleep with whomever they please. I understand that. But...but they have to keep their...their promises. Don't they?" Raisa voice quavered a bit as she spoke. I understood. I looked her in the eye.

"I will always keep my promises to you. All of them. You are mine as Adewyn is mine, and you will be more if circumstances deign to favor us."

She smiled, reassured, and hopped nimbly to her feet. She may have been a deadly assassin but just then she could have been a little girl practicing somersaults in a field.

"Oh," she said as if she'd just thought of something, "You should probably get dressed. There's a man out there waiting for you."

* * *

After some awkward dressing and exchanged looks between the three of us, I finally managed to leave the bedroom alive to go meet the guide. His eyebrows went up when he saw two beautiful women following me out. Good. At least someone here was impressed with me.

He didn't need to know that both of them were probably annoyed with me.

"I'm Keeper Johannes. My father maintained the caverns before me and he led your father down the same way I'm about to lead you."

He was young, perhaps twenty years of age, and short with a mop of darkish hair. I shook his hand, and then he led us away from our rooms. We went down passages large and small in the castle, through twisting stairways and halls carved from the living rock of the castle's foundation. 

It was all to misdirect us. The Duke's family had been given the sacred duty of guarding this cavern, and the city of Jorvik had been built around it. Even were all else to fall, the cavern would be protected. Such was his oath, in any case.

The Keepers were a little known lesser house of nobility, who alone could enter the cave and leave it freely, without any ill effect. They took care of whatever tasks the inhabitant, or inhabitants, desired. They either didn't remember or would never speak of what they had seen or communicated with. In any case it was strictly forbidden for me to ask.

Finally, after almost a half hour, we opened a hinged door in the side of massive empty wine cask with a false back. We went through that about another fifty paces, and found ourselves in a great, rough stone opening into what was obviously a natural cave. A great brazier roared with flame here, and my scalp tingled with the magic it gave off as well as light and heat. I believed it to be part of the defenses which must lurk here.

"Here we are, my lord. All the rest is your task. Once you enter we cannot interfere until you return. When you leave the cave, we can help you again, so just worry about getting back here. We'll wait for you."

"What's my role?" Adewyn asked.

"You make sure no one follows me down, even friends. And you protect me when I get out. Odds are I will be in no fit state," I said.

"And what do I do?" Raisa asked.

"You kill the Keeper if I don't return," I replied.

"What?" Johannes said, paling.

I looked at him, my eyes boring into him.

"Anything you want to tell me? Tyr is clever and my uncle more so. It would be like them to set a trap for someone they mistrusted. Or to simply pay you to omit something important. Now is your chance, no harm will come to you."

I saw by the bead of sweat on his brow that I had touched a nerve.

"Your...your uncle said that if any usurpers came after them, that I was not to warn them about the dangers of the stream. So that they might drink of it and die."

He swallowed nervously. I smiled like a wolf.

"Well, usurpers should be slain. As we both know, I'm my father's rightful heir, so you've done the right thing," I said, "But she's still going to kill you if I anything happens to me."

He nodded, trembling. I think he had told me the truth, but there was probably a significant chance that I would die or go mad anyway. 

Well, time would tell and I was terrible at goodbyes. I started my Journey without looking back.

* * *

The cavern stretched out before me, pitching downward as it opened up, the shadows full of dark promises. A stream of water rolled into the mouth of it, fed by the rain and descending deep beyond my lantern's light. For some reason, not knowing the final destination of the water unsettled me. I laughed briefly at my own cowardice, then began my descent.

It was a rough walk. Certainly the angle wasn't steep enough to call it climbing, but the uneven ground combined with the shadows and downward trend led to me tripping a great deal and even falling hard once on my shoulder. Fortunately only my pride took any real injury, although my forehead was bleeding slightly. More importantly, the lantern was undamaged. 

I continued down for what seemed like an hour but in truth could have been no more than fifteen minutes. The cavern yawed left and right, but the angle stayed steady. As I continued there seemed to be a fog in the air, perhaps from the moisture of the stream. I convinced myself that the whispering I heard was just the water moving over rocks, but in my heart I did not believe it. 

After another hour had passed of moving steadly down, I began to become bored. I cannot rightly tell you why. There were plenty of sensations, and it seemed like the shadows were alive here, flickering and jumping. When I shined light into them, I saw nothing alive, but the stone of the wall had peculiar circular deformations which made it look skulls of various sizes piled high upon one another. I considered turning back.

Suddenly, I wretched, bringing up mostly water and a little bread that I had eaten earlier. I hadn't felt ill at all before I found myself kneeling and heaving over and over, until nothing more remained. Had I been poisoned this morning? Was the duke trying to kill me?

"Easy, friend. You aren't doing so well. Its all right. You probably won't die."

Later I remembered his kindly voice. I remembered that it wasn't really a man, but a woman. No, that wasn't quite right either. Was it even human? I know that we sat and talked, for some time, maybe hours. I asked questions and listened and heard stories and strange truths. 

No matter how hard I tired, I could not remember the details. Not until great danger was upon us, when they would all come back to me in a rush.

In the meantime I remembered only fragments of their words: which made little sense without context, and that I knew had great and important details missing:

"Soon, by my reckoning, the things which drove the Karrash through the gates will open them wide again. I will be no match for them. They will push through, and if humanity is not prepared and unified...The armies of Belial do not regard Humanity as an equal, or even as an enemy, but only as a resource...Your sisters and mother and children included... All other considerations, including your petty politics and hatreds, are secondary...Your brother...did not understand, although he tried. The vapors took him and he failed his Journey. I returned him to the surface where hopefully you have confined him somewhere that he cannot harm others or himself....Go now, and tell your people that you have returned with the hope of the light and the wisdom of the dark..."

I remembered nothing after that.

* * *

Someone was touching my shoulder and gently shaking me. I awoke in terror of the divine, standing and shouting.

"I have returned with the hope of the light and the wisdom of the dark!"

I looked around. I was in my room in the Duke's palace. Raisa had been trying to wake me and now was stunned and unmoving. Adewyn was standing and looked like she was about to tackle me. The Duke himself was midway through eating a sausage. And the Keeper just smiled.

"I've never heard the words delivered at quite that volume," he said, "but that is the proper and expected message. He has successfully completed his Journey." 

With that he stood to leave. I ran forward and blocked his progress. I was certain that I looked mad and covered in rock dust, some blood, and probably vomit. He stepped back, momentarily afraid. I didn't blame him.

"When my brother and uncle returned, did they both speak the words?"

"What?"

"Think, man! Did they both say the words properly? Were there any mistakes?"

He looked annoyed but then unsure.

"There were mistakes. But...that isn't uncommon. The vapors confuse the mind."

"What did they say?"

"Well, your brother said the light was hopeless and the dark was unwise. And your uncle spoke of the hope of the dark and the wisdom of the light. The order isn't supposed to matter though, only that the four words are said: light, hope, wisdom, dark. That's what I was told, anyway."

"You're wrong," I said, suddenly very sure that things were much worse than I had initially thought, "But it isn't your fault. From now on the Journey is only to be considered a success if the words are said as I did. Well, they don't have to be shouted, but in that order. Understand?"

I really had no right to order the Keeper to do anything. He was independent of kings and their petty will. But he saw in me the true insight of madness, and nodded before he left.

I felt suddenly very weak and sat down, heavily on the bed. I looked at my hands and to my surprise I noticed I was clean. I felt my face and there was a good half inch of beard growth.

"How long was I sleeping?"

"Only a few days," Eorvane said, calmly, "Your uncle slept longer. Tyr didn't at all. I suppose that should have worried us."

"Yes," I agreed, but I wasn't sure how I knew what I did, "It should have. He failed. He failed and went mad."

As I said the latter I locked eyes with Adewyn, projecting what I hoped was compassion. She still looked away.

"Shall I call the Northern Comdail to session?" Eorvane asked. He referred to the rulers of the noble houses of the North. They were stubborn and truculent but they were also my most likely supporters. 

"Yes," I said, "and do what you can to have the meeting soon. Things more important than a petty royal feud are happening." 

I didn't explain, because I couldn't, but I put as much force behind my words as possible. Why couldn't I remember what had happened down there? I knew a few things, I felt a few things. That was it. Damn it!

"I'll be off then. You should rest up. The poisons won't clear from your system entirely for several more days. I'll have dinner sent up for you and your sisters, er, wives." Eorvane said, then he, too, left, closing the door behind him.

"Raisa, can you give us a minute?" I asked, my eyes never leaving Adewyn. She rolled her eyes but stood up to leave, as she did I said, "Don't go far. You're sharing my bed tonight."

She looked back at me over her shoulder and graced me with the faintest of smiles before she left, gods help me, out the window. What the hell did they teach her at that temple?

"Are you dividing your time up between us now?" Adewyn asked, smiling.

"Yes. Although I can't make it official yet I'm going to treat you like wives, not concubines. I hope that doesn't bother you."

"On the contrary, I find it appealing. I think you'll make a fine king." she said, then sighed deeply, her eyes sad and tired, "Ask what you must."

I did not share her faith that I would be king, but somehow it didn't bother me. I felt that there were more important things than my survival, now. In fact, if it came to it, any of my sisters could rule effectively, no matter what the law said. At the moment I had more important questions.

"Was Tyr the one who gave you those scars? Did he hurt you?" I tried to keep my voice even, but she had to hear at least a little of my anger. I was old and wise enough to know that there were many unfair things about the world. One of them was that women, especially noble women, were always held to be inferior and submissive to men. No matter how worthless the men in question or capable the woman. Alongside that, however, was the teachings of our ancestors, which held that a man of Pure Blood must always protect the women of his family. To hurt a woman or child out of simple cruelty was to be the most despised of creatures.

"It was my fault, really," Adewyn said, all too casually, "I provoked him. He clearly wasn't well, and he ordered me to take some cavalry and go burn some villages where a baron had refused to pay taxes. I told him....well I said he was a fool and it would only make things worse. At the best of times it would have made Tyr mad, but these weren't the best of times. So...so he said a word. It was obviously magic, but nothing I was familiar with. I remember great green light exploding behind my eyes. And then nothing."

"I woke up on a table, I was probably still in Marche Grodayn. It was made of stone. I was so cold. I didn't understand at first, but then I realized that I had been stripped and bound with harsh rope. I was laying face down. Gods...if anyone but you had asked...I wouldn't..."

She stopped for a moment and breathed. I didn't want to interrupt her but I walked over and sat next to her on the couch, pulling her close to me. When she had calmed down a little, she went on.

"I couldn't see Tyr. He never let me see him. I wasn't blindfolded but my head...it was strapped down so I could only look in one direction. He said something, I don't remember what it was, and then there was searing pain. I thought it should end, that I should pass out, or that it would overwhelm my senses. I'd been injured in battle before, but this was nothing like that. I felt...every second as whatever he was doing, slowly, so fucking slowly, gouged a line in my back. It hurt so much. I know I was weak, because I screamed. I begged. I pleaded. I offered to do such demeaning things that I knew...that I knew he had come to enjoy."

"He just laughed. I don't know if he was cutting the marks or if he had some...some implement. Whatever it was, it was magic. I know that. He would recite or read things to me, and they didn't make any sense. Even when I understood the language, which I didn't always. Eventually, he stopped, and the pain lessened. Then...then he said a word and I passed out."

"I woke up in my own bed, my new injury bandaged, but still in great pain. After that, it happened more regularly. I would always fall asleep in my bed, or elsewhere, and wake up in that fucking place. And he would be reciting, and laughing as I screamed and pleaded and told him I loved him."

"I finally had enough. I was his wife but I wasn't going to die like that. I went to uncle and told him about the way I was treated, the strange magics, everything. Do you know what he said?"

I shook my head. I was, I think, too enraged to speak.

"He laughed and said that Tyr was doing his best to prepare me to be a...a good bride for..."

"Belial," I said, finishing her thought. I remembered the name from the cave.

"How did you know?" Adewyn said, sitting back from me suddenly, fear in her eyes.

I shook my head.

"I was...warned about him, somehow? I'm sorry. I don't remember much from the Journey. I know that Tyr was warned as well, but it drove him mad. I don't know why."

I reached out. She flinched a bit, which made me sad, but again I understood why. I took her head in my hands, gently. I looked her in the eyes. I spoke almost at a whisper.

"I need you to understand something. What he did to you was his fault. You did not provoke him. He would have done it to you sooner or later, no matter what happened. You are a good sister and you were a good wife to him. I know it. I don't know how he treated you before he went on his Journey, but when he returned, he was...cruel beyond measure. He violated your trust and tortured you. He made you think you were weak when you were not. All of this is unforgivable."

At that she melted into my arms and sobbed. She said nothing and neither did I, for a very long time. I would never allow her to be hurt like that again. I felt something in me stir for the first time in years. The feeling of being a part of a family, and being desperate to protect it.

Tyr would die, like the wounded animal he had become. Uncle would have to be killed as well, unless I was very much mistaken. I or one of my sisters would sit on the throne. There was no other way.

Now the only question became how to go about it.


	10. The Corrupt

Author's Note

I just wanted to give a quick update here for those of you who are reading this as I am releasing it. This is part four, which is the start of the second act of the story. In terms of actual writing, parts 5 and 6 are complete and the story is currently over 75k words. It's still planned to be 9 parts, although may go over 90k words.

Next, I wanted to respond to some comments I've gotten telling me how they want characters to end up or how the end of the story should be. I appreciate this and pay attention to all respectful feedback, including preferences. I've also finished planning the entire plot, and I don't see making any major changes to it. I will say two things: 

1) There aren't a lot of straight up good or bad guys here. There are people making decisions, selfish or selfless, wise or foolish. Every single character has weaknesses and flaws. The ones that allow themselves to be dominated by those negative aspects are the villains of this story. The heroes are those that rise above them or help others to do so. Love and sex are key parts of this.

2) I'm not going to spoil it but if you're worried about how the ending might play out you could read some of my other works. They are very different in tone and content but should give you an idea of how I like to end my stories.

I received a really excellent question via comment about confusion over the family tree. I realized, quite belatedly, that I had forgotten to make this clear early on. Oops. I'll have to revise the first part at some point, but for now, below is a quick guide to Finn's immediate family as it stands right before part 4 starts. I may update it as things change. Because they will change.

* * *

Grandmother (Mother of all Father and Syrlin, other two sisters are his half-sisters) - Deceased, mentioned in passing later because she had some unusual traits.

* * *

Father (Artan) - His relationship will all three of his sisters is pretty good, if sometimes tempestuous. Cares for family but can be ruthless, cold, and cruel. He would never hit women, but has no such compunction about his sons. Missing and presumed dead.

Seigaldia - Mother of Tyr (1st Child) and Adewyn (2nd Child). She's more or less loyal to her son, but she has equal devotion to her daughter. Wife. Proud and has a temper. In Marche Grodayn.

Bayrd - Brother, Finn's Uncle. Has no known children. Was not permitted to marry any of his sisters and has many affairs with commoner and lesser noble women. Spymaster for kingdom. 

Syrlin - Mother of Finn (3rd Child). Made First Wife due to her unquestioned love and loyalty to her brother. Social butterfly, renowned for her beauty and charm. Capable mage. In Marche Grodayn. 

Cedyr - Mother of Merwyd (4th Child) and Raisa (5th Child) and source of their red hair. I should have mentioned her at least. Concubine, not full wife. Raisa's name is different from the others out of respect for a friend of hers who died. Concubine without full rights of a wife, reason why is not public knowledge. In Marche Grodayn.

* * *

Tyr - Heir. Unwell. 

Adewyn - Ex-wife of Tyr, rejected. Intended Wife of Finn. Very much in love with Finn but will not put up with his shit. Finn loves her and trusts her advice on all military matters.

Finn - Although he's declared his intent to marry two of his sisters, none of it is official yet. Reputation for sleeping around, although this was during times when Adewyn and/or Merwyd were not with him and before Raisa as of age, so it is somewhat undeserved. Mostly.

Merwyd - Finn's first head-over-heels love. First Wife of Tyr, has a daughter but her name hasn't come up yet. Finn still loves her but her current feelings are unknown.

Raisa - Intended First Wife of Finn. Loyalty and love for him is complete. Finn loves her deeply and is protective of her. She was trained to be a shadow-magic assassin and is smarter than she gives herself credit for. 

==============================================  
CHAPTER TEN  
==============================================

Politics are dangerous both because they can kill you and because they can bore you into a stupor. To an extent, as a Pureblood, I am accustomed to them, but even my patience was sorely tested by the Lords of the Northern Comdail.

I wasn't surprised that they all wanted something. I wasn't surprised that they were a pack of surly brats. I was surprised by how unwilling they were to commit to anything. Including coming out in support or opposition to me. By the seventh day of the meeting it was clear that some wanted to hear what Tyr might offer in contrast to me or had already been bought out or blackmailed to oppose me.

The Northern Comdail was held in its own fortress in the gray and dreary highland moors, which was ostensibly neutral. However, it was under royal command. And the soldiers there, lacking any particular affection for Tyr (in part because they had been ignored but mostly because they hadn't been paid), more or less swore loyalty to me immediately as soon as some money changed hands. Eorvane had opened his vaults to my cause, with the understanding that I would pay him back, with interest. Not to mention all the juicy favors I would owe him. 

Of the remaining lords, two had immediately backed me. One Dux and one Graf. Both powerful lesser houses. Interestingly it meant that all three lords who had commanded men in war had thrown their lot in with me. You'd think that would mean something to the others, but sadly four found the fence perfectly comfortable to sit upon and the remaining two declared loyalty for Tyr. 

If it came to it, our forces were larger than that of our enemies here in the North, but sieging and taking their castles and towns as well as occupying (or simply pillaging) their land would be expensive in terms of both men and treasure, to say nothing of the ethics of the situation. I meant to avoid it if at all possible.

Eorvane had persuaded me to close the "official" deliberations so he could do the dirty deals that would be required to bring most, if not all, of the other lords onto my side. He believed that he could, given time, but he was certain that intimidation or direct pressure would have the opposite of its intended results. So I was stuck cooling my heels for a few weeks at least.

I did take care of some things of importance. I sent trusted men off with messages for some of my friends in the southern cavalry, as well as one for Parla. While these men bickered over rewards for the use of their petty forces, I knew where I could find an experienced group that I could trust.

Raisa was a bit upset that I didn't send her with the messages, but when I explained that I didn't want anything to happen to her and that I needed someone to gather and organize intelligence, both of which were true, she brightened up and started applying herself to being my spymaster. After all, who better to run spies and assassins than another assassin.

Adewyn pored over maps, reviewed strategies, read reports from the South and generally was an effective pain in my ass. Rather than complain, I tended to take her advice, even if I did argue a little first. She was right most of the time, and knew more about logistics than I did, even if I had fought in more battles. I argued largely so she would defend her position, and therefore teach me the right way to do things without either of us appearing weak in front of nobles or soldiers. She understood this instinctively and I respected her for it.

I also provoked her a little because I found her to be irresistibly cute when she was angry. I'd never say that to her face. I wasn't entirely a fool.

One day, after reviewing countless ledgers and reports and missives in my private tent, I found that I was, shockingly, out of busy work. I decided to walk around our camp, which was growing daily as the lords loyal to me continued to raise their levies. Fall was here in force and it was quite cool just after dusk, so I took my heavy dark cloak with me. I think that was one of the reasons why I was able to wander freely without being recognized.

I strode around, impressed with the order I saw. Most camps I'd been in weren't arranged rationally or easy to navigate. Then again, most camps weren't laid out by Adewyn. A few people saluted or deferred to me, but I was dressed plainly so most assumed I was a knight of some kind and just nodded as they passed. This suited my purposes. I wanted to see how things were, not how others wanted me to see them.

I made a circuit. I listened to folk songs, some old, others I hadn't heard before. There was a particularly bawdy one going around about me, which was flattering and made me out to be some kind of sexual titan who seduced good temple women and stole them away in the night. I did not correct the young lady doing the singing. I needed all the morale I could get.

Eventually, I completed my review. I was generally satisfied. The perimeter was guarded, the men had good boots, everyone had food and drink, and their tents were in good order. This would change as soon as we started marching, of course, but we would have all the advantages we could muster.

As I returned to my own tent, looking forward to sleep and, if I'm honest, laying with one of my sisters, I heard voices. They were hushed, and I recognized them. Rather than announce myself like a gentleman, I lurked outside like a cad.

"She won't listen. She's going to come straight here as soon as she is able to get away," Raisa said, obviously disapproving of this plan.

"For god's sake, she needs to let us talk to him first. Did you tell her what he thinks happened?" Adewyn asked. They were in agreement. 

"She wouldn't even tell me anything. I'm worried...I'm worried that he's right, at least in part."

"Fuck. He's not the same. I love him, more than anything, but I really think he's capable of killing them both." Adewyn said, and although I couldn't be sure who they were talking about, it still hurt me.

"Do you really think so? I mean, maybe in the heat of the moment, but...he's not like that. He didn't attack you."

"Yes, but I had him at a disadvantage. And my situation was very different at the time of the attack."

"All we can do is hope for the best and intervene if things go badly."

"Yeah. While we're on the subject of things going badly..." Adewyn went from sounding concerned for someone else to hesitant, even afraid.

"Gods, you still haven't told him? Do it already. You're panicking over nothing." Raisa had apparently heard this before.

"I know! I'm such a fucking coward. I'll do it soon. But can you be there, just in case?"

"Like, in the room? That would be awkward."

"No, just nearby, in case I need to talk. Or he d...hello?" Adewyn inquired suddenly. Dammit, I'd gotten too close to the tent and my cloak had blown against it in the breeze. I made a shuffling noise and walked in, behaving as though I'd heard nothing.

"Hello yourself. Done for the day?" I asked, trying to portray myself as calm and relaxed. It was far more difficult than I thought it would be.

Raisa and Adewyn shared the briefest of glances before they both smiled warmly. They were better actors than I was. It made me worry what else they had been keeping from me. Was I becoming too trusting again? I didn't want another dagger in my back from a loved one. Especially one I was sleeping with.

"Yes," Raisa responded, "we were just getting caught up. I have some news for you, but I don't know yet if its good or bad."

Adewyn's eyebrows shot up. She must have been worried that Raisa was going to spill her secret.

"Oh?" I said.

"You know I still have sources inside Marche Grodayn. They tell me that your mother has disappeared. No one has seen her for weeks."

Adewyn relaxed at the realization that this wasn't what they had been discussing. I did not. Raisa saw my anxiety and she went on hurriedly.

"I almost didn't tell you, but there is more. It appears as though Tyr is sending people out to look for her, very quietly. And your uncle has been seen to be very concerned about her. So it seems likely to me that she escaped once she heard you were alive and had returned with an army. It would have been much harder for her to do that it was for Adewyn, who largely had free right of travel. Your mother was being closely watched and..." Raisa stopped suddenly, and I could see that she almost said something that she had intended to keep from me. 

"And what?" I asked.

"...and your uncle had been...keeping her...in his rooms. My sources tell me that when she was seen about the castle that she had been more subdued, and once even limping. I thought that should have been her telling you that. I'm sorry. I don't know any details," Raisa seemed almost ashamed for having told me.

"Don't keep things from me, even for my own good," I said with deceptive calm, "I'm not the person I used to be. I can't abide being lied to any more."

My sisters had the decency to avoid eye contact with me for a little while. I took a deep breath. I wasn't being fair to them. I wasn't sure what they had been discussing, but I was positive that they were both loyal to me. And everyone deserved to have their secrets, even from their brother or lover.

"What about the situation with The Graf of the Isles? He's still holding out and it will be difficult to transport anything on the coast without him."

Raisa smiled.

"I'm almost insulted that you asked. Tyr's idiots were keeping his wife in a ruined fortress near the coast. My people got her back and she's safe. We're treating her well and told her that she'll see her husband soon. What do you want to do?"

"Just give her back. He's loves her and he only asked for lower taxes. He'll side with us after that."

"And that leaves the Dux of the Irons," Eorvane said. He was standing at the entrance to my tent. I had been fairly tired and I didn't even notice him approach. 

"Are you making headway with him?" I asked. I was very interested. He didn't have a lot of money, land, or troops, but the "Irons" were the mountains that ran unevenly across the kingdom, breaking it roughly into north and south. He held all of the important passes, and therefore could allow or deny access to whomever he allied with. 

"No," Eorvane said, "he's not himself. Or at least he's not making the sorts of demands that he normally would. Can you believe that he asked me about marrying Adewyn?"

I was honestly angry for a moment. Purebloods might marry outside of their own family but always to other Purebloods. The lineage must be maintained or the magic that made us who we are would be lost. And she was mine to marry. I opened my mouth to speak but Adewyn spoke for me.

"Fuck that," she said, simply, "and you can tell him that I said so."

Eorvane guffawed.

"Well, I assumed that would be the answer. But he claimed that I was stonewalling him and insisted on speaking directly with you, Finn. I wouldn't. I think he's just going to waste your time," Eorvane said.

"I'll speak with him, maybe he just wants to be flattered or reassured. Is he at the headquarters now?"

Eorvane nodded. The headquarters was our fancy word for a really big tent with a table and maps. It was where we held our larger meetings. The request for marriage was too outrageous, though. Was it designed to insult me? Or just to get my attention? Or was it a distraction? Better safe than sorry.

"Raisa, you stay hidden and protect me from any ambushes. Adewyn you go get some of our Guard and hide nearby in case we need you. I'll head over with Eorvane and we'll play this casual and see what he has to say."

Raisa was surprised as I'd never asked her to be my bodyguard before. I had been thinking about it for a long time. She wanted to continue to travel far and wide for me, performing assassinations and infiltrations by herself, proving her value. The trouble was that we had people for that now. Some of them had come over from my father and had even been trained by Raisa. 

And, to be honest, worrying about her while she was on missions was killing me. I never doubted her competence, but she could never, ever make a mistake. If she did, her impressive career would be over and I'd be in mourning.

I knew that in her new role as spymaster she would chafe at being unable to help me more directly. The bodyguarding idea would hopefully solve that issue, but it wasn't just to assuage her ego. I needed someone to watch my back, and I trusted no one more than her.

Eorvane and I walked silently to the main tent. Adewyn had run off to assemble some men. I could tell by the way she looked at me that she would have preferred to just come with me directly but I was also worried about surprise attacks from without. More than one monarch had been killed in his camp by a sudden uprising or raid. Raisa disappeared into shadow and silence somewhere behind us. 

When we entered I felt stupid for my paranoia. The Dux of the Irons was a small man, fastidious, bald, and near-elderly. He hadn't even brought any of his own guards with him. Really, I'd killed people like this almost casually in battle. 

I smiled and approached the Dux and he did the same. As I grew close he extended his hand to shake mine, the universal sign of friendship and peace. After all, you can't draw a dagger while your hand is clasped. It was then that I realized that I had made a significant mistake. 

I don't know why I didn't shout or scream or even shriek. Even after all the battles I had been in, in which I had performed fairly well and avoided the paralyzing shock that some feel, I was not ready for this. I froze, completely, my hand extended, my forward momentum stopped. I don't think at that point that anyone else had seen what I had.

I wasn't truly afraid at first, I just didn't understand what I was seeing. It was unlike any magic that I had witnessed before. The Dux's hand, small and wrinkled like aged leather, smoothed itself out. I blinked. His flesh began to flow, like water, that was strangely bound to his bones. And as I grew afraid and fatally unable to react, his flesh rolled off of his forearm, growing long and sharp, replacing his hand with a long and ragged reddish blade. I could even see the bone of his forearm, but it was black and had strange holes spread over it, like the hive of some terrible insect. 

As I watched, he moved faster, his smile growing beyond the width of his mouth, his head splitting to reveal an awful blackish-red maw full of jagged teeth. That's when the ghastly howling started. I moved at last, almost too late.

I shifted to my right, hard, and his hand-sword barely missed piercing my chest. Instead the edge brushed against my left side, biting into my flesh. I screamed. I am unashamed of this. I'd been cut and stabbed in battle, and much worse than this, but nothing had ever hurt this much. I smelled my flesh cooking where he'd touched me, and there was another acrid smell that made me think of an alchemists laboratory

That's when Raisa, my beloved and trustworthy little sister, saved my life. Her blade erupted from the thing's mouth as she stabbed it from behind. She didn't assume that would kill it either, and stabbed it where its heart should be as well as several other places before she leapt past him and stood in between myself and it. There she stood, bravely, ready to defend me.

The thing was dead, however. It collapsed, not like a person, but like a heap of sludge that had just been emptied on the floor. The form still had skin, and presumably bones and organs, but they had no shape. It was like a squashed ball of dough, but the dough was also a man. Blue-black blood flowed viscously out of its wounds, with the consistency of syrup in winter. 

Finally, I reacted. I spoke a word and burned the thing's corpse just as Adewyn's shouting form appeared at the mouth of the tent. I would have liked to examine the monster, but I don't know what it would have revealed. Besides that, I felt deeply and instinctively that this thing was unnatural, and that its very presence, even while dead, was dangerous and toxic. 

"Save whatever you can. Don't take anything that it touched. Burn the tent and everything left in it."

What in the hell was Tyr dealing with?

* * *

That was the thought on my mind as I allowed myself to be led away by Raisa, back to my tent. She made me wait outside while Adewyn checked it, and then they made me sit down upon my bed. I wanted to protest that I was a grown man and could move myself, but my mouth felt numb and my tongue swollen.

And the pain in my side was getting worse. Why didn't that feel better? I felt the wound and it wasn't even bleeding. Raisa moved my hand abruptly. I realized that Adewyn was taking off my shirt and arguing with her. Why were they arguing? It seemed like a bad time for it.

I opened my mouth to demand to be told what was going on, but then I realized that I couldn't hear anything. Or could I hear noises but didn't understand them? Was that cacophony my sisters' talking with one other? Normally I found their voices relaxing and beautiful. 

I was laying down now. When did that happen?

I realized, with sudden clarity, that it was likely that I was dying. With this understanding, when Raisa's face appeared in my vision, I reached out and brushed my hand on her cheek. She jumped up, startled from what she was doing. She smiled at me, her lips quivering slightly. I still couldn't understand her words, but I didn't need to. She took my hand and kissed it and pushed my arm back down upon the bed. 

I was sure that she understood my intent. I felt that I couldn't do anything more, so I decided to sleep. I was very tired. 

I dreamed of shouting and pain. Of my sisters watching me with dead eyes and daggers in their hands. Of my father glaring down at me, his hand a living blade, ragged and red. Of Tyr, laughing while he fucked Merwyd. Of my uncle strangling my mother. 

I dreamed of a thing with many eyes, whispering to me of the ways in which it would consume everything that I loved.

I woke up screaming, my side in such pain that I sobbed in a most undignified manner. 

"Oh fuck...that hurts."

As soon as I woke up there was a hand on my face and lips on my forehead.

"Its all right, love. Don't worry. Raisa knew how to cure the poison. We couldn't give you anything for the pain until you woke up. We had to be sure that the venom's effects had passed. I'm going to bring you something."

I knew it was Adewyn speaking, but. I couldn't focus on her. Although even in my present state, I wanted to watch her ass as she left. I laughed, although that just made it hurt more. I simply took my libido as a good sign and tried not to think of the bonfire in my side. 

She returned soon, looked at me and then I felt her shoving something into my side. It was cold and soothing, but the pressure. Gods, the pressure turned the bonfire into an inferno. I screamed again.

"Oh gods, I'm sorry. You'll feel better soon, I swear. I don't know what that thing did to you but you'll be all right. Please just try to relax."

I was barely in control and I wanted to ask her how I could possibly relax when I saw her tears. She was holding some kind of poultice on my wound, doubtless at Raisa's instructing. She knew that it hurt me, and it hurt her to do it. She was openly weeping, her other hand brushing my hair off of my forehead. 

I found that while I could not relax for myself, I could do it for her. I am not a great man or a brave one, but I love my family. I never wanted to cause her pain. I attempted a smile and she returned it.

It felt better already. I laid my head back. Adewyn stood and shortly came back with some warm, acrid tea. I drank it eagerly, being incredibly thirsty. 

Then I felt very relaxed. I laughed a little and I kissed Adewyn's hand. She rolled her eyes, but still smiled back at me.

"How did I know that the Soothing Leaf would make you amorous? Well, as much as I may want to jump you normally, you look like a corpse and you're as weak as a kitten. I'd break you, little brother. Are you still in pain?"

"No, and I might want to get broken by you. I always loved it when you used to hold me down and kiss me, when we were young."

She laughed, full and heartily.

"Oh, I see that the Leaf makes you talkative as well. Why didn't you ever tell me? I love it when we're gentle with each other but I would always be willing to ride you hard and leave you a little bruised. Or to pin you down and have my way with you."

"Because a prince isn't supposed to like that sort of thing. You know, that's what father said. I'm not sure he knows as much as I thought he did about things a prince should and should not do."

She looked a little more seriously at me, and even in my intoxicated state I could tell that she was considering something.

"You know, Raisa exhausted herself healing you with her magic. You screamed in pain, but you got better almost immediately. Even so, she wanted to stay by your side until you woke. I insisted that she rest. She loves you very much. As do I. We don't ask for that much from you..."

The way she trailed off made me look at her more closely. Her deep-blue eyes met mine. 

"You know that I can deny you nothing. What do you want? If I can provide it I will."

Adewyn blinked in shock. I suppose she expected reluctance or more questions. Of course, she was taking advantage of me in a drugged state. I was having increasing difficulty focusing my eyes upon her.

"Now isn't the time for me to make requests of you. It isn't really fair. But...Raisa and I were speaking about children and..."

She had my interest but I heard no more. I was asleep, yet again. This time, thankfully, I had no dreams.


	11. A Brief Respite

==============================================  
CHAPTER ELEVEN  
==============================================

Later I found that I was in and out of consciousness for a week. Raisa had used deep and secret magic to draw the poison out, but had no idea what could have been so virulent and fast acting. No one knew what the creature was, either.

Well, thats not precisely true. I was sure, somehow, that I had an idea. Maybe something I learned on my Journey, but that whole affair was still quite dim in my memory. Scenes flickering by, a few words remembered here and there. 

Belial. I remembered that name. Dammit.

The first time I would call myself well, I stood up on my own. I'd had enough of needing help to relieve myself. I was still sore in my left side, but nothing severe. My thoughts were clear. My legs were a little wobbly, but felt strong enough to let me walk. I changed into fresh tunic and trousers, put on my boots, and went outside into the bright autumn sun.

Adewyn shouted at me as soon as I left my tent.

"What the fucking hell are you doing?"

The Guard, brave men who I trusted with my life, looked at each other and moved outside of the range of Adewyn's anger. I suppose there are some dangers that you cannot ethically ask men to face.

"I was just walking. I'm not going far."

Typically we'd shout at each other a little at least, but I didn't have it in me yet. And, well, I appreciated her over-protectiveness a bit more now.

She sighed, and forced herself to calm down.

"I'm sorry. I just...I can't watch that again. You were as close to death as I've seen anyone, and I felt like a fucking widow."

I embraced her. I didn't care if anyone thought it was un-princely behavior. She held me tightly, showing her deep care for me. I appreciated it even if it did hurt a little. She drew back, and when she did she was smiling. 

"Let me get Raisa. Meet us at your tent. We have plans for you."

I raised my eyebrow but after I had relieved myself, I returned to my tent and enjoyed the sense of being able to stand on my own. I was impacted by something fast, small, with fiery red hair.

Raisa almost knocked me down, but kept me from falling with her deceptively powerful hug. I hugged her back.

"You fucking stupid bastard," she said, hitting me gently on the arm repeatedly, tears in her eyes, "How dumb are you to get hit by a fucking assassin's blade? Do you know what would have happened if I hadn't been here? You useless idiotic... pretty boy!"

I couldn't help but be shocked at her loving assault. I'd never seen her like this before. I smiled charmingly.

"So you're saying you think I'm pretty?"

She hit me one more time and then laughed despite herself.

"You fucking prick. I love you and you nearly died because you were too slow. I'm your new goddamn bodyguard and that's all there is to it. Don't try and stop me."

"I feel much safer already," I said with true sincerity.

"Oh, and you're not going back to council today. Or headquarters. Eorvane is sitting over the council. And Adewyn has hand picked some officers for you to approve later. Between them, they've got everything handled."

"Um," I said, at a loss, "I don't know if I can rest any more. I'll go mad if I have to spend one more day that bed."

Raisa laughed, pure and clear. I was reminded that she was still barely a woman, really. I guiltily thought about everything she had taken on for me and for her love of me. Adewyn too, even though she was older than I. 

"No bed for now, elder brother," Raisa said, and then smiled sinfully and fake pouted, "Maybe later. You've left your dear sisters so unsatisfied while you lazed about. Today, however, we're going to the market. The three of us."

I blinked.

"The market? For what, cattle? Arms?"

Adewyn must have heard me from outside because I heard her laughing at me as well.

"No, you useless prince, its market day. Who knows what we might find there?" she asked, excitedly.

I was confused, but relieved that for at least a little while no one would be asking me to make critical decisions. 

"I don't think I've ever been to one before. Even when I was on the continent the war kept anyone from having market days or trade fairs. Sounds...like fun."

I think my sisters expected me to be stubborn or uninterested. At that moment, I truly would have done anything that they asked. I still would, but please don't tell them. My life is difficult enough.

Raisa kissed me and took one arm, then Adewyn took the other, and off we went to town.

* * *

I noticed that we were all dressed rather plainly. We could have very well been a knight out with his women. Adewyn wore a simple wide brimmed hat to cover her hair, and Raisa's hair had never changed. For my part my head was nearly shaven and my beard was rather salt and pepper. I simply looked older than I was. 

As we left the environs of the camp, we could see people trickling to the west of the fortress, to the small village that sat to the west of the great building. 

"It's a large market today, because of all the nobility and soldiers," Adewyn said, "there should be a lot of food vendors."

"Is this about the fry bread?" I said, then laughed, "Because I seem to recall someone's face covered in sugar and grease."

Adewyn tried to respond but Raisa didn't let her.

"Oh my gods, I remember that day! She was like some kind of monster. She ate three times as much as you!" Raisa said, then laughed with me.

"I work hard," Adewyn said, pouting slightly, "It's not easy keeping Finn from making terrible decisions. And he's so demanding in bed! I need fry bread...for my morale."

"Wait, I'm demanding? This from the woman who wants to have her way with me whenever she chances to brush past me?" I asked.

Adewyn blushed and hit me, but she laughed. Raisa giggled. 

The gentle morning stroll progressed like this, everyone joking and laughing all the way there. For a brief time, no one discussed war or assassins, enemies or logistics. In my mind it was like when we were all much younger and it was a festival day. All five of us: Tyr, Adewyn, myself, Merwyd, and Raisa would go and eat too much sugar and fight and play and, when we were teenaged, some of us would sneak off and make out. It was one of the few times that father was indulgent and recognized that we were children and not simply tiny nobles.

The market was very large, sprawling from the village square and down every small path and even outside of its borders. There were, to Adewyn's delight, many sellers of greasy, fried, and sweet foods. There were tailors and smiths and jewel merchants. There were large-scale import-exporters there to buy grain and sell luxuries from the south. There was even a traveling tent-brothel, which I noticed my sisters were steering me clear of in their subtle but no-nonsense manner.

I had a reputation, but I wish that they understood how deeply I loved them. I hadn't even thought of Merwyd in over a month, much less tumbles with random women. I was quite content with my wise, strong, and beautiful Adewyn and my cunning, quick, and sensual Raisa. Not for the first or last time I considered how happy we might have been if we could just escape to the continent and live quiet, peaceful lives together.

I knew in my heart that was impossible. My Journey had taught me that lesson. I couldn't remember the details, but I knew with absolute certainty that neither Tyr nor Uncle Bayrd could be allowed to rule. The people would suffer, the kingdom would fall, and...and perhaps worse.

"Hey!" Raisa's irritated huff distracted me from my serious reveries, "I asked you something."

She pouted adorably and I couldn't help but smile.

"I'm sorry, I was distracted."

"I could see that," she said, and then her annoyance abruptly disappeared, "Which one is better, the green, or the gold?"

As she said that she held two gowns in front of her. I was momentarily taken aback by my own imagination of what she would look like. The gold was classical, something that would go well at any ball, but not particularly daring. The green, though, was something else. It had a very low bust line, and some near transparent lace at the bodice which would show a little more than was considered appropriate. The hem wasn't particularly high, but it had a slit up to mid-thigh. And it was vaguely constrictive, so I imagine it would show of her thin waist and fine hips. 

"The green," I said, hoarsely, "Definitely the green."

Raisa pursed her lips, unsure.

"Do you really think I'd look all right in it? I...I don't have much to show off."

"Let me assure you that you have more than enough to show off and that this would look amazing on you. I'm proud to have you on my arm at any time, but in this? No one would even know I was there."

She smiled widely and kissed me, perhaps a little longer than was appropriate in public. In fact, I noticed that both of my sisters had been giving me smoldering glances and lingering caresses. I wasn't complaining. My cock had responded rather gallantly, reminding me that I hadn't had sex in over a week. I'd definitely end up fucking one of them tonight.

At least one of them.

As Raisa was paying the merchant, I felt Adewin pulling me by my arm across the square. She had a curiously intense expression on her face. She'd already purchased some clothing, which was rare for her. Most of it seemed to be very loose, comfortable wear, that wasn't her typical style. I assumed that they were for sleeping in, or perhaps for a someone else in the camp. She had a tendency to look out for other women, especially the younger ones who might get taken advantage of.

"Here," she said, "What do you think of these?"

It was a simple question, no context given. None was needed. The jeweler had many rings on display, but Adewyn had picked out four of them of them: one with an icy sapphire, one with a clear white diamond, another with a blood-red ruby, and finally a simple platinum band. I picked them each up and inspected them. They were old, I could tell, and had been worn before. On they inside they had quite legible engravings, but the words made no sense. On a whim I stacked them all and looked inside, trying several different orders. On my third try I found there was a clearly readable poem:

Sister of Battle,

Sister of Magic,

Sister of Blood,

Your love has made us yours.

I was rather taken back by this, but I was no fool. 

"How much for all four?" I asked the merchant. He barely kept the predatory grin from his face.

"Ah, well, I couldn't possibly let four such fine rings go for less than...hmm...ten ducats."

"Ten ducats!" Adewyn exclaimed, "That's far too high! Come on, Finn, we can do better." 

She tugged at my arm but I stood my ground.

"I'll give you twenty if you tell me where you found them. I don't care if they're stolen."

The merchant looked a bit panicked for a moment, but licked his lips at the prospect of such a price. He probably thought I was misleading him, but I was not.

"Um. Well, sir, they are not stolen." He spoke so softly that only I could hear, "In truth, they were taken with a great deal of other treasure from...from a tomb on the western shores. There were many valuable artifacts of the Purebloods, and they sold for a fortune. I was late to the opportunity and was able to pick up some simple baubles and these rings."

I gave him thirty ducats, smiling. He provided a simple cloth bag for the rings, and I put them there. As we walked away, Adewyn whispered happily in my ear.

"I saw them and thought of us right away. But you didn't have to give him so much!"

"I'm already cheating him," I replied, "But there is no way I could afford what they are probably worth. They're at least from the time of the invasion, maybe even during the first wars. Our ancestors may have worn them."

She stopped, suddenly. I could see her thoughts were moving in the same direction as mine. 

"Will you let us wear them for you? I'm already yours, but I want the world to know. Raisa would be over the moon with joy. I think she still doubts that you will make her your First Wife"

"Yes. I'll give them to you both later tonight, when the time is right."

Her smile was brighter than the sun, and I couldn't help but notice the flush on her cheek. Raisa caught up to us, her fine gown wrapped in clean common cloth. 

"What are you two talking about?" she asked.

"Fate," I said, "and why you must always pay attention when you hear her speaking."

* * *

By late that afternoon we had eaten, shopped, drank, and even watched the children play a mock tournament that had us in stitches. I was tired, far more than I would have been prior to my poisoning, but I was also content. Something in me had changed. Maybe it was nearly dying, or perhaps it was simply being a part of a family again. We all three of us sat upon a hill looking down on the market. Some stalls were already closing while some were opening up for the night's entertainment.

"I wish the rest of us could have been here. It's not the same without them."

"Even Tyr?" Adewyn asked.

"Yes," I agreed, "Even him. Before we had our disagreement and his, uh, changes, I loved him. Not as you did, but still."

"And obviously Merwyd," Raisa said. I couldn't see her eyes but I'm sure that she rolled them.

"Oh yes," said Adewyn, "We can't forget about perfect Merwyd. Whatever would we do if we didn't pine for her at least once a day?"

Both her and Raisa laughed, rather rudely I thought.

"I don't mope about her that often any more," I said, testily, "Besides, it's become more than clear that that was mostly one-sided. I think she was just playing me after I seduced her."

For some reasons, both Raisa and Adewyn found that hilarious. I was actually getting a bit upset.

"What's so funny about having my goddamn heart broken?" I asked.

"Oh...oh no, Finn," Raisa said, quite sincerely "We'd never make fun of you for that. We know you love her, and she loves you. It's the other part that's so funny."

"What bloody part?" I said, more confused than irritated now.

"The part where you think you seduced Merwyd," Adewyn said, chuckling, "You can be such a bloody idiot when it comes to her."

"Wait, what? I did seduce her! We had a relationship! It was even secret, for a while. I got in trouble! We didn't restart it for years later, but I'm sure that..."

"That what, Finn?" Raisa asked, her eyes twinkling annoyingly, "That you saved her when she was out walking on the forest path? That you drove away some bullies and she was just so scared that you had to hold her close to your strong chest!"

"Or that you helped her when she so-conviniently injured her ankle swimming?" Adewyn added, unhelpfully, "And you carried her all the way home on your back, and she was just ever so grateful that of course she kissed you spontaneously?"

"Well," I said, "yes, I that is what I remember happening."

Now Raisa and Adewyn were both guffawing in an unladylike fashion.

"So..." Raisa said, barely able to control her mirth, "So do you ever remember seeing the bullies actually hurting her? Or did you just see some boys running away from you? Did you see her injure her ankle? Or did you just hear her cry out in her charming manner and then see her tears?"

I opened my mouth to protest, but, to my immense discomfort, Raisa was right.

"And," Raisa continued mercilessly, "How many times can you 'just happen' to walk in on someone while she's changing, or getting into a bath, or getting out of a bath, before you start to think that it isn't coincidence? Oh, and of course, there's her imaginary suitor."

"Oh god," Adewyn said, between laughs, "I almost forgot about the Mysterious Continental Noble!"

"Yes!" Raisa shouted in agreement, "The one that Finn never ever saw, but had always just left. Or the gifts and notes from him just laying around her room whenever you happened to visit. You got so jealous of a man who never existed."

"Was everything she did an act?" I was feeling quite low now, like the world's biggest fool.

"Calm down. Of course she loves you." Raisa said, taking pity on me at last, "That's why she did all of that. You were always looking at Adewyn's ass, or your mother's breasts. You were even flirting a bit with our mothers, which I don't know how you got away with. But her? All you saw was just a scholarly little do-gooder who wanted to play house with you, while she saw her dashing prince."

"She seduced you, is what we're saying," Adewyn added, wiping away a tear of mirth, "Sometimes I think you're lucky that you have your looks to fall back on. And of course your sisters to keep an eye out for you."

"Oh yes, thank the gods for my sisters," I said, glumly. They didn't always have to be so bloody truthful. I stood up, but I wobbled for a moment, my vision blurring.

"Are you all right?" Raisa asked me, standing suddenly, looking into my eyes with worry.

"You look tired," Adewyn answered for me, "We should get you back."

I was going to object but their mirrored looks of concern convinced me that perhaps it was time for me to entrust myself into their care.

"Probably for the best," I said softly as they each took one of my arms again.

We were much quieter on the way back. Not somber, but reflective. I simply basked in their love. By the time we arrived at camp I was exhausted. They led me back to my tent and laid me down, although it was only early evening.

"Rest for a while, love, " Raisa insisted, "we'll be back and check on you soon."

I realized that they were treating me very carefully, keeping an eye on me while doing their best not to insult my pride. Little did they know that the last five years had stripped me of many useless things, including much of my ego. I was simply grateful. I stripped, lay down, and was asleep in moments.

* * *

I woke to conspiratorial whispering. At first I thought I was about to be assassinated but then realized it was my sister's voice.

"What do you think?" Adewyn asked.

"I think that you do all of your thinking with your quim," Raisa answered, cattily. I liked her new confidence.

"Come on. He's better. And we let him sleep for a few hours. He's got to be frustrated as well."

"Better isn't well. I'm his guard, so I say when its fine for you to fuck him."

"Gods, you aren't First Wife yet," Adewyn sounded annoyed, but I could tell that she wasn't really arguing. Typically she would be the one being overly protective. She must be really horny.

"Do I get any say in this?" I said.

Raisa came in and narrowed her eyes at me in the dim evening light, followed by a noticeably flushed Adewyn.

"No," she said, simply.

"Oh come on!" Adewyn protested, "Look at him, his color is back, his eyes look good. And he's standing at attention."

I was making a little tent of my own under the blanket. 

"Gods," Raisa said, "Can both of you just stop and think for a second about what might happen if Finn strains himself?"

"I'll be good," Adewyn said, although her husky voice indicated that she wanted to be anything but, "Besides, if you're worried, you can stay and...monitor us."

I'd never been with two people at once. To be honest, it hadn't held much appeal. Until now. My cock twitched at the idea of both Adewyn and Raisa being in my bed.

"Oh, look, someone likes that idea," Adewyn said, giggling while smoothly taking her shirt off. I'd missed those lovely breasts. Did they seem a little bigger?

"Fine, but...if you start feeling bad, tell us and we'll stop," Raisa said, but I noticed that she had seemed mesmerized by my erect cock. It was like we were all caught in a current of lust, and the tide was coming in.

Adewyn stripped quickly and sat next to me on the bed, pulling back my blanket. Raisa, however, stripped slowly, teasingly. Both of them had been in tunics and trousers, which was their preference, and not all that uncommon for women in the camp. Raisa's pants were leather, and they gripped her tightly as she wriggled out of them. Her shirt was cotton, tight and light. As she pulled it off her breasts popped into view. Something about the way they did filled me with lust. She smiled at me, proud of the power she had over me. 

I was still a bit weak, and felt completely at my sisters' mercy. It was not an unpleasant feeling.

"Just lay back and let your sisters care for you," Adewyn said, obviously aroused but her voice gentle. As she wrapped her hand around my cock I moaned. 

"Do you need us, brother? Do you need our warm mouths and tight quims?" Raisa asked, teasingly, before she kissed me, slowly, and with longing. Her tongue explored my mouth, slowly, as Adewyn took my shaft in her mouth.

"Fuck," I gasped, my whole body tensing for a moment. The sensation was almost too much. If I hadn't been so full of desire, so lost in the moment, I might have been alarmed at how overwhelming it was.

Raisa's hands roamed my chest, Adewyn's gripped my thighs. Mine were fondling Raisa's breasts, gently pinching and caressing her nipples in turn. She moaned, and then began to kiss my neck, nipping and even biting me, marking me as hers. As she did so Adewyn took me deeply, to the root of my sex. She gagged slightly but her throat gripped and tightened on me in a way that was delicious torture.

Raisa stopped and looked at Adewyn, who released my cock from her mouth. I saw that they shared a smile.

"Oh gods, please," I said, feeling powerless and even more aroused because of it, "I need you. I need both of you. Please don't stop."

"You've been so good for us today, haven't you?" Adewyn said, positioning herself over my cock and guiding it towards her sex with her fingers, "Spending time with us, buying us fine gifts, showing only us your attentions."

Raisa began to straddle my head, bringing her pussy tantalizingly close to my mouth. I inhaled deeply and caught her scent, which I associated with both innocence and wanton desire.

"Will you care for me now, my lord?" Raisa said, suddenly very serious, "Will you give me your sweet kisses in all of my secret places?"

"Yes, gods yes," I said, out of breath even though I was unmoving and a passive recipient of pleasure.

As soon as Raisa's warm wetness touched my mouth, I felt Adewyn sink down on my cock. I moaned into Raisa's quim, and she moaned in return. Adewyn had cried out as she enveloped me. No one within fifty feet of us would have any doubt as to what was going on in here.

I licked and lapped and sucked Raisa's sensitive nub into my mouth. This was the only part of the experience that I truly had control over, and I tried to focus on stimulating her as much as possible. I penetrated her with my tongue and I felt her sex convulse. She was already cumming.

"Oh fuck. Finn, I love you so much," Raisa cried out.

Adewyn, meanwhile, had been riding me with growing intensity. It was clear when she started, moving up and down slowly, that she was attempting to show me gentleness and care. I appreciated it, but her need must have been great. With each stroke she grew faster, harder. Her breathing turned to whimpers and then moans and finally cries. By the time she was nearing climax she was fucking me with bruising force. I loved it, and I felt like a goddess of legend was having her way with me.

Adewyn screamed my name, her quim spasming. Her orgasm was shocking to me, I felt her whole body move and shake, and she was loud in a way I found lewd and erotic. I'd never heard her this excited, and I felt a wave of fresh wetness bathe my crotch. Everything about this was incredibly intense. She came again and again, rapid firing orgasms that rendered her unable to speak. Raisa did as well, but more gently, grinding herself against my face. My beard was soaked with her fluids.

Adewyn collapsed off to my side, suddenly exhausted. I worried for a moment but then I felt her hand jerking my cock, sliding slickly and firmly over it. Raisa suddenly lifted herself up and turned around, again pressing her sex onto me as she leaned forward and took me into her mouth.

I thought of her tasting Adewyn on my cock and I nearly came, but I wasn't ready. Raisa loved serving me but couldn't take me very deeply in her mouth. She more than made up for this with her speed and eager tongue. Soon I was having trouble even thinking, my own tongue seemed to have a mind of its own. That's how it ended up circling her puckered rosebud. She moaned on my cock and arched her back. I'd never done that before but apparently she liked it. I continued to lick and probe it while I used my thumb to gently stimulate her clitoris. As my tongue entered her she had two more small quivering orgasms, and then she let me pop out of her mouth.

I moaned in complaint. Beyond words, I was so close. I felt something building in me, my passivity contributing to it. It felt like an orgasm, but it also felt like magic. My body and soul were gathering energy, just as they would before I cast a spell, but I knew not the source or the goal. It was all completely unknown to me.

Raisa turned around again, facing me, her mouth sloppy and wet from her activities, and slid herself smoothly onto my cock, growling deep within her throat like a tigress in heat. Fuck, she was so tight! My good, innocent Raisa, who used to follow me around like a lost kitten, now riding me, grinding on me, rolling her hips. Adewyn leaned over from the side and began to kiss me, full and deep. 

Something exploded inside me. I felt myself spurting my fertile seed inside Raisa over and over again. I felt her cumming a final time as I did so. It felt like I was putting more inside her than that. It felt like there was a true transfer of energy, of power, my love given literal form and sent into the core of her being.

As I came, I saw visions. This was the first time that it happened during sex, but not the last. The first of these visions had already happened. The other two had not yet occurred, and perhaps never would. Such is the nature of spontaneous divination.

I was young, just having passed my initiation and ascent to adulthood. I had turned eighteen three days ago. I was bathing away the bruises and soreness from the ritual combat earlier in the day. My eyes were closed but I felt someone get in the large basin with me. It was my mother, nude, glorious, her eyes devouring me with want that I'd never seen before in any woman. She moved to kiss me, her hand finding my cock.

"I became quite wet, watching your performance today," she breathed into my ear.

I was older than before, older than I was at the present, and sick, although not of the body. The room was dark and warm. Others worried I would die but I knew I would recover, even though I was unable to sleep and barely able to move. Merwyd watched me tensely; she had stayed with me late into the night. Her hair was stark white, and much shorter than I was used to, its ends dyed a stark black. Carefully, slowly, and almost idly, her small deft hand and found my cock under the blankets and had begun to stroke me with love and care. I did not complain. Finally she stripped off her gown and mounted me, almost desperate in her intensity.

"Love, please give me a child. I know you aren't well, and in case...you don't make it. Please, I know its selfish but..."

I was much older, and virile, healthy, and commanding. It was a chill autumn day and we were in a forest near the castle. The girl who was with me was less than half of my age, barely twenty-one, her hair a flaming red. She was cursing me, telling me that I wasn't truly her father, when she stopped, realizing that she had crossed a line that she never intended to. I was dimly aware that I had been...hurting her? Not physically, never that, but emotionally I had been pushing her, challenging her, even enraging her. To provoke her power out of her. I felt sick from doing it, she was a good girl, and true. I put my hand on her face to let her know of my love, and to my surprise, she leaned in and kissed it. Next I kissed her, and pressed her petite form against a thick oak tree. She gasped and pulled me to her, telling me how badly she wanted me, calling me pet names other than father. Soon I had pulled her pants off and was fucking her on a bed of thick moss. When she came her power manifested at last, her hair turning white in one smooth wave, both of us suddenly floating off of the ground. Afterwards she begged my forgiveness for her earlier words and I for my cruelty. Things were different between us after that, and she secretly became devoted to me with an almost feverish intensity.

I realized that day that she had never hated me, but only herself.

Then I was in the moment again, panting, and aching. Gasping for breath, feeling loved and terrified and sated and somehow, wiser. Raisa and Adewyn looked down on me, concern on their faces, still breathing hard and flushed from sex.

"I'm all right," I said, smiling widely and sincerely, "Gods am I ever all right."

Raisa laughed but Adewyn still looked serious.

"I thought for a moment we'd killed you," she said.

"Well, you have to go somehow, and death by my sisters' quims seems like a decent way, all things considered," I retorted.

Adewyn snickered and hit me. Both of them cuddled up to me, one on either side.

I reached under the pillow and pulled out the pouch from earlier in the day. I took the rings out. I held Adewyn's left hand and put the ring with the sapphire on her finger. I held Raisa's hand and placed the ring with the blood-red ruby on her finger. I handed the platinum band to Adewyn and she put it on my finger. All fit with eerie accuracy. There were no questions. We'd all answered them long ago.

The last one I would wear on a chain around my neck, as hope against the future that I feared would come to pass.

Even knowing that it was coming, Adewyn was crying a little. Raisa, somehow, was much more flushed now than she had been even after coming. She clutched at me tightly, and snuffled for a little while. I held her.

And that, for me, was the day that we became truly married. Perhaps there would be ceremonies later, or perhaps I'd be put into the ground sooner than I expected. I didn't care. This was the beginning of my new family, which I would build on love and trust and respect. For the moment, everything was perfect and I was wonderfully, truly relaxed. With my sisters on my arms I began to drift off to sleep.

"Finn," Adewyn said, with a slight tremor in her voice, "I'm pregnant."


	12. Good News

==============================================  
CHAPTER TWELVE  
==============================================

"What?"

"I...I said I'm pregnant," Adewyn repeated.

"Huh," I said, "How about that."

"Is that all you have to say?" Adewyn said dangerously.

"Oh gods Adewyn, relax," Raisa said. It sounded to me like she was having trouble containing her laughter. The brat.

"Don't you tell me to relax, I'm pregnant with his fucking child and he says 'Huh, how about that,'" Adewyn said. Her impression of me was not flattering. Raisa guffawed.

"Sir, uh...oh. Oh my," Kyrza had, naturally, walked right in my tent before she started speaking to me. I guess she didn't expect me to be there in the nude with both of my sisters. 

"Yes?" I said, grateful for her distraction, unsure how to react to Adewyn's news.

"Uh, well, um. Someone is here to, uh, see you. Sir." Kyrza was letting her eyes wander over me most impudently.

"Why are you making me wait? I can hear him perfectly well from out here," an imperious voice said from outside. I recognized it immediately, of course. "I'm coming in," she said, "it isn't like I've never seen him naked before...oh. Oh my," 

For once, she had nothing more to say, also impudently staring at all three of us. I sighed.

"Hello, mother."

* * *

After mother and Kyrza left, we all three got dressed, mostly in silence. Adewyn was trying to glare at me but mostly she just looked afraid. Raisa was just looking very unsure, like a nervous little girl. 

"Good," I said, "I want this."

"What?" Adewyn said.

"I want our child. I desperately want it. I want to be a father with you. I love you."

"Better late than never, I suppose," Adewyn said, but she was smiling. I kissed her, quickly but tenderly.

"Of course this means no more front-line command for you,"

"What?" she said, but I ignored her on purpose this time. I didn't have time for that argument.

"Raisa, what's wrong?" I asked. Her eyes darted to me, nervously.

"She saw us. You and me. She knows."

"Well, yes." I said, confused.

"She doesn't like me. She never wanted me to marry you," Raisa whispered.

"Really?" I said, surprised. I'd never seen or heard anything like that, and mother was never shy about telling me her opinions of others. "Why do you say that?"

"Um, its hard to explain. She's just always been really critical of everything I did. Always correcting and comparing me to Merwyd or Adewyn," Raisa said, ruefully. Adewyn looked surprised to be a positive role model. 

"That does sound like her," I said, sighing, "but it doesn't mean she dislikes you. It means that she accepted that you would be my wife, and was trying to help you 'improve yourself'. I love her but she can be trying and overly critical, even of herself. And besides, it doesn't matter what she thinks, you'll be First Wife, just as she is. She'll be powerless to stop you from enacting your will and you'll belong only to me, forever. I wouldn't be able to leave you if I wanted to. Which I won't."

Raisa looked thoughtful. I was lacing up my shirt as I said that last bit. I paused, frozen. I had a sudden inspiration. Could I have been making this whole thing more complicated than it was? I had just assumed that I wasn't smart enough or didn't understand the complex politics of my betrayal.

But then, if I was right, why kill me first? Wouldn't it have made sense to use me as his tool, instead? Or...oh gods. That made sense too, from a certain perspective.

"Finn?" Adewyn said, concern in her voice, "Are you coming?"

She probably thought I needed rest. I probably did.

"Hm? Oh yes. Sorry, just had a thought. I need to speak about something with my mother."

* * *

We met in the new headquarters tent. Someone had thought to bring in four comfortable chairs, which I appreciated. Mother looked as though she needed a great deal of rest.

She was dressed in a plain white gown, modest and all-concealing, up to and including her neck. Naturally, it was also quite tight and showed off her full figure, which was thinner than I remember. Also troubling me greatly was the hint of a bruise that I could see peaking out of her high collar. Although she had tried to conceal it with cosmetics, I could see the circles under her eyes, which looked haunted.

It was clear to me, who probably knew her as well as even father did, that she had gone through something awful. I seethed but tried to stay calm. I did not have the luxury of rage at the moment. That would come later.

"Aunt Syrlin, it's...it's good to see you," Raisa said, clearly still anxious.

"Oh Raisa," my mother said, with a degree of unusual warmth, "You have no idea how happy I am to find you and Adewyn in my son's protection. I feared you both were dead. Your mothers will be so relieved. And, might I add, you both look radiant."

"Raisa saved me, mother. In fact, if it weren't for her, I would have died. Several times, now." I said. I was not only in love with her, but quite proud of her as well. Raisa blushed, and my mother's eyebrows rose. She made no other changes to her expression but I could tell she was impressed.

"I'm going to want to hear everything about that later, dear," mother said, "but for now we must discuss more important news. Tyr's army approaches. He leads it himself."

I nodded, grimly. This is what we expected. He'd clearly marched through while the monstrous replacement for the Duke of the Irons was still undetected. Now that all had been revealed his son was the new Duke and he would, hopefully, side with us and close the passes. But that did nothing to help with the army that now marched on us.

"How far behind you are they?" I asked.

"Um. I'm embarrassed to say I'm not sure how long it will take them to arrive," mother answered. She was always ashamed to lack knowledge, even if it there was no way for her to have it, "I left them right on this side of the pass at Sarnvik three days ago. I got here as quickly as I could, but I'm not the best rider..."

I looked at Adewyn.

"If they force march, they'll be tired when they show but could be here in two days," Adewyn said, "If not, probably more like five. Either way, there really isn't any more time to do serious preparation. All we can do is try and choose our spot and get there."

"I agree," I said, "Kyrza, order the men to break camp and be ready to march. Adewyn, go over the maps and pick the spot. I'm guessing that we will be outnumbered so go defensive. Raisa, choose some scouts, enough to cause trouble but not so many that they won't be able to move stealthily. I have an urgent task for you so come back for it when you've got them assembled."

No one looked surprised as I took charge. It felt strange to be giving orders like this, even knowing the situation. Raisa and Kyrza left to carry out their instructions. Adewyn went to the back of the large tent and started reviewing maps. This left me with a degree of privacy with my mother.

"I have much to ask of you. Truthfully some of my demands will probably seem unkind," I said, keeping my voice low and gentle with some effort, "I have no urge to hurt you but I am not the man you knew. The luxuries of blind love are lost to me. I suppose all of that will have to wait. What I need to know about more than anything right now, is your brother Bayrd."

My mother's face clouded as I spoke. I saw that she was worried about what I might say or do. That I might send her away or even imprison her. I did not want to, but even I wasn't sure of what I was capable of at that time. 

"Very well," she responded, looking suddenly very tired, "I will answer to the best of my ability. Please...please don't judge me too harshly, son. I love you and your father very much, more than anything."

"Does Bayrd love you still, as a man loves a woman?"

She flinched as if I'd hit her. 

"Yes. As much as he could be said to love anyone, he loves me."

"After father marched north, how long did he wait to take you into his bed?"

I regret the way I approached this, with no tact or kindness. My mother looked down, unable to meet my eyes.

"Oh, gods, son. I didn't have a choice. You must believe me! I never would have chosen this. It is why I am here, now! To warn you! I just want to have you back. And...and your father. He must surely see now that you never tried to kill Tyr..."

I reached out and took her hand. 

"I'm not blaming you mother. Please answer the question."

"It was...about a week after. He called me to a meeting in his chambers, which I found odd. It wasn't the first time that he'd tried to seduce me after my marriage to your father. This was...different. When I arrived, he made no pretense of his intentions. He simply told me that I belonged to him. When I refused...he...just took what he wanted. Afterwards he pretended as though I had been agreeable, despite my blood and tears.The guards heard everything but didn't intervene. I told Tyr about it later, but he just laughed and told me to 'enjoy Bayrd's attentions.'"

I sat back. I was lost in disgust and hatred of my uncle, and deep compassion for my mother. I said something to myself, without thinking first. Idiot that I am.

"So...father is truly dead then."

"What?" mother said, almost in a panic, "I never said that! He came here, to the North! I initially wanted to find him but then I heard that you were alive and came to you immediately. Why would you say such an awful thing?"

She wrung her hands unconsciously as she spoke.

"Mother," I said, with much more gentleness, "There is no way that Bayrd would have done that if father was alive. No one has seen him up here. I believe that he was murdered in Marche Grodayn and the story of his travel made up to protect the conspirators. Bayrd and Tyr."

"Why do you say such hurtful things?" she asked, then finally broke down into tears and great sobs. I stood and went to her, pulling her to me in a reassuring embrace. As soon as I did so she buried her face in my stomach, and held me fiercely.

"It brings me no pleasure, mother, to hurt you. I think you must have suspected it as well," I said, stroking her hair gently, "We must face the truth if we are to survive and avenge him."

Although I had little love in my heart for my father, I found myself angry nonetheless. If he had been wise or cunning enough to deduce that I was not a traitor, then perhaps he would still be alive. He had paid already for any crimes that he may or may not have committed against me, and I believed him to be as much a victim as myself.

Mother controlled her tears after a short while. She was capable of such discipline that few people saw. After a moment she sighed and then looked up at me, resigned.

"What do you want of me? If you wish to send me away then I won't cause you any difficulties. I know that you...you must think of more than just your family right now. I only ask that you please don't send me back. He'll ask you for me and offer you...something, I don't know what, for me. Please don't agree. I beg you."

"I'm not heartless or foolish enough to send you away, mother. Not even as I am now. I want you close to me. For many reasons."

She looked at me and nodded, before rising and kissing me. First, softly, on the cheek, and then slowly and intensely on the lips. When she stopped I caught Adewyn watching us and she looked away, blushing. I pulled mother close, crushing her to my chest, feeling her full breasts press into me. Even being worn out from illness and excellent lovemaking, my cock responded to her immediately. She made a little whimper. I couldn't tell if it was one of welcome or fear. I'd have to be gentle with her until she was ready.

That would all have to wait, in any case. War was here. I hoped that we were ready.


	13. Dream of the Hunt

==============================================  
CHAPTER THIRTEEN  
==============================================

I knew that I was dreaming, but it was also a real memory. It happened when I was fifteen, one day after Adewyn's day of majority and I was out hunting with my father for his favorite prey, boar. I was, however, distracted. Adewyn had for the first time worn a gown rather than breeches, and I would be thinking of the way her hips swayed and her bodice dipped for months after. She was three years older and bold and naturally featured in many of my fantasies. I enjoyed playing with Merwyd and Raisa, but they were just my little sisters and nothing more.

My father's firm hand on my shoulder distracted me from my reverie. In the real memory, he pointed to a Redtusk male. They tended to be both smart and aggressive so hunting them was 'easy'. By which I mean you needed one person, preferably brave or disposable, to hit it with an arrow and anger it. Then, another person would be waiting to spear it as it charged the first one. I was the archer and father had the spear. I also had a spear beside me, but I'd need to get it set up swiftly or simply finish it if father landed the first blow. The spears were sturdy and had cross guards directly under the blade. Without them the boar might just impale itself further to murder you. For obvious reasons, father saw this as the ideal bonding activity.

I lined up my shot. Truthfully, this was not difficult. He was upwind from us and we were well-concealed. He was well within fifty paces, larger than a man, so I knew I could hit him. I waited until he was rummaging around in the earth for something, and then loosed my arrow. As father had insisted, I tried to kill it, as that would be the ideal and least cruel way to complete the hunt. I went for the center kill shot, which meant aiming so the arrow slid behind the shoulder-blade into the heart.

I hit the target, but not with enough power. It did anger the beast, and he turned straight for me. I dropped the bow and picked up the spear. I fumbled it and by the time I had picked it up in my nerveless hands it had impaled itself on father's spear as he stepped out in front of me. I charged to his side and drove mine into the boar's throat, and as I pulled it out a gush of blood signaled that the creature would die in less than a minute.

It was a successful hunt. Or, at least, that's what any other hunter would have said.

"You failed. You should have died," father said simply.

"But stopping the boar was your job," I insisted, angrily. I was splattered with blood and just wanted to be home, warm, and maybe flirting with a servant girl or reading bawdy plays. I was tired of father's brutal lessons. He just laughed.

"Do you really think that you'll always be able to trust me?" he asked casually as he began to skin the beast.

I stopped, dead, for a moment. You see, for all the lessons that he had taught me about life, politics, riding, hunting, and even how to bed women, he'd never indicated anything other than familial loyalty to me. He beat me, to be sure, once so badly that I had broken ribs and I pissed blood for a few days, but I had always believed that there was love there. For the first time, on that day, I doubted that.

My memory of the event ends here. The rest of the day was probably fairly routine. In my vision, therefore, this is where things diverged.

"It seems as though you were right. I shouldn't have trusted you," I said. My voice was still that of a teenager but I spoke with my own full experience.

Father looked back and me and stood up. He had his knife, but I had my spear. And, as it turns out, I had become quite good with spears. I held it almost casually, but I knew many ways to kill him. I wanted to kill him, even if it was just a dream.

"You think you can kill me as easily as you did the boar that day?" father asked. Somehow I knew that he was real, even if he was dead.

"Yes," I said simply, "I should have killed you and Tyr both. After Bayrd, of course."

Father laughed bitterly.

"Of course. Maybe you should have. I let myself be fooled, not once, but twice," he said, cleaning his knife on his pants and sheathing it. He sat upon a convenient stump.

"And by your own brother. What the hell happened to you? I understand that you sacrificed me, maybe intentionally after you heard Tyr's story. I'm the expendable spare son. But mother? Tyr? Adewyn? Merwyd? They all suffered because of your utter and complete failure."

"True, but I didn't sacrifice you."

"The hell you didn't. I went out a goddamn window and you married the presumed killer to my lover. Not only that, but you sent men out to kill me. You sent Raisa out to kill me. You should burn in the pit for that alone!"

"That was your uncle's doing as well. He acted on his own initiative, and by the time I learned of it, it was too late. For a long time I truly thought that you were dead. I didn't know if Tyr was telling the truth but I only had one heir left. Bayrd advised me to make the best of it, although he seemed disgusted with the idea of making you out to be the villain."

"Bayrd is just one of those rare traitors who feels guilt for the lives he takes," I said with cynicism, "he needed to kill me, or to have Tyr kill me, and you endorse it, so mother would start to doubt you. It didn't work of course, her goddamn love for you outweighed any love she may have held for her own fucking son."

Father looked at me, seriously.

"That's not true, boy."

"Which part?"

"Your mother loves you and mourned you constantly. She will be overjoyed to learn that you were alive. She is a survivor, however, and her appearing to have been too angry or grief-stricken over your death would have made her suspect in my eyes, and then later Tyr's. Remember that he while he was only the heir, he would be king sooner or later and she would no longer be First Wife. She would be vulnerable to him. I agree with you about Bayrd's motivations. It all came down to love and jealousy. I thought he had left the torch he carried for Syrlin behind him long ago. He hid his love with endless affairs with commoners and lesser nobility. Your mother never told me about all the times he tried to ply her with drink, to win her back to his bed. She never told me because she knew that I would have killed him, and hated myself for it. I know because I am a fool, and before I died I suspected her of betraying me so I stole and read her journals. By then it was too late. I had missed the signs for years, and his rage grew, and he came up with a plan. He convinced Tyr that he needed to kill you. Do you know how he did that?"

I shook my head.

"No, father, I don't. I'm not sure it matters. He was the eldest and my better at everything and it still wasn't enough. I was willing to serve him, to shovel his shit, to execute his whims. All I wanted was Merwyd. Just one woman, and to be left alone. Instead he took everything."

"This is why you couldn't see it coming. You estimate your worth poorly. Tyr was led to believe that you were trying to kill him, for Merwyd. For the crown. And at my instigation."

I laughed.

"Why would you ever conspire with me to kill Tyr?"

"Because you would have been a better king. And he knew it."

I didn't reply. I didn't laugh. I'm sure my jaw dropped. Was father serious?

"Think," he said, with the peculiar intensity that he was known for, not-quite rage but feverish interest, "Use your brain for something other than moping and magic. Why did the northern nobles end up siding with you, despite being a bunch of arguing washerwomen and you having a reputation for being a womanizing fop? Why did Adewyn think of you first to save the kingdom even when she loved Tyr? Why did Raisa look up to you as her ideal husband? Why did Merwyd seduce you instead of Tyr? Because you lead! You lead and men follow. And you give a damn about your family, about your friends, about the people. You could have led that mercenary company. Parla would have been your willing parter, bed and business."

"The truth was that I was looking for a way to replace Tyr," father continued, "if you had developed your magic earlier, then I could have simply declared you the heir and there would have been no need for all of this. I didn't want to kill him. I never wanted that. He is still my son. He was a capable administrator and commander, and he could have been an excellent diplomat. But he wasn't a king. He didn't care about the people. He didn't know how to impress nobles or make people go against their own interests for a greater good. He was also arrogant and easily insulted. It made him pathetically easy for Bayrd to manipulate."

"Bayrd explained some of this to me before he killed me. He could have been lying, but I believe that, in the end, it was his twisted love that motivated him to make Tyr his instrument. But Tyr did things his own way. He feared you and it made him act carelessly. Once you escaped you did the sensible thing, the right thing, and disappeared. You waited and watched and planned and developed your magic."

"So here we are," father said at last, and sighed, "I am dead, and you are in front of an army, with at least as much magic at your command as I ever had. I come with warnings and a lesson. Being dead has allowed me to observe some things prior to our visit today. Tyr is mad, but more dangerous for it. No one can predict what he will do when cornered. Bayrd is more dangerous. He knows of the power you developed, he's gathered stories from witnesses to your last battle, even sent agents to see the remains of that fortress you leveled. In his desperation, he took the Journey's warnings as a fast way to gain his own magic. The fool trucks with demons."

"And the lesson?" I asked.

"Step outside yourself and look at things from broader perspectives. You're capable of empathy. Use it. It's both a sword and a shield. That's it for my advice. Please protect what's left of our family. And...and tell your mother...tell Syrlin that there's nothing to forgive."

I nodded.

"Why don't you tell her yourself? You had no problem entering my dreams..."

He laughed, the big, full laugh that I loved to hear as a child.

"Do you think that this was easy, boy? I had to plan this and use powerful magic long before I died. To ensure that something of me would remain and would be able to reach out to you, at some point, and tell you what I had learned. Think on this, lad. I had to choose someone to reach. I had to make the decision long before I passed, months before. To reach you I had to gamble that you were still alive. I trust and love your mother above all women. I would have died for her. I treated you poorly at the best of times, to prepare you. But I chose to reach you, you feckless whelp. Ask yourself why when you awake, and then reward my faith in you by being smarter than I was."

* * *

I woke, startled. It was at least four or five hours before dawn. Although it could turn into another endless series of movements and counter-movements, my gut told me that today would be the day that we met Tyr in open battle. We held the better ground, but we had less soldiers and our army consisted of forces that had never fought together, or in some cases at all. 

Raisa had left the night my mother arrived, and she certainly understood her assignment, but I hadn't heard anything from her. I didn't expect to, but I still worried endlessly. This fight was important on its own, but it could never be decisive for us, given the resource difference. If I stood here and she failed, then even victory might just mean irreplaceable loses. Retreat deeper into the North would be the more logical choice. On that note, I had to hope that Tyr would take the bait and move up to attack me. I had allowed their scouts to get close enough to get a fair idea of our numbers, so he might consider the chance to annihilate us too good to pass up. I suspected that he still thought of me as inexperienced at war. And, of course, he was mad, although that just made him unpredictable.

I felt as though I was made of worry, with a little bit of frustration thrown in for variety. I tried not to let it show as I walked through the darkened camp. I made no attempt to hide who I was any more. It wouldn't be enough to be accepted as leader by the nobility; the men had to see me as well and see that I was calm and confident.

I entered my supply tent. It was well guarded and held our army's rather limited treasury, really only enough to pay the men for a year. I was here for something more important. I saw her in the back, still wrapped in the old leather where I had left her. I picked her up, apologetic for leaving her for that long.

Caliban reassured me that she understood why it had been necessary to conceal her for the short term. I wanted to be seen for the first time carrying her on the battlefield. Seeing a Pureblood artifact in the hands of their commander would inspire my men and fill the enemy with dread. Also, despite the stories from the continent, I knew that most people didn't believe that I was all that powerful. I hoped that Tyr was still underestimating me. If so, he wouldn't for much longer

My next stop was headquarters, where I was not at all surprised to find Adewyn already busy giving instructions and looking at a recently made map of our immediate area. Her eyes were hollow and I wondered if she'd eaten anything.

"Finn, good, I'm glad that you're here. I think we need to shift our position. I've noticed some possible flaws..."

"No," I said gently, "Your first instinct about this place was right. You're just doubting yourself now. You've been up all night checking logistics and supply. Go to bed for a few hours."

"But I..."

"No. The only thing I want you to be sure of is that everyone knows their line of retreat and knows that retreat is part of our plan. I don't want any idiots charging down the hill and I certainly don't want a bunch of green boys breaking as soon as they start marching away from the fight."

She looked down and bit her lip.

"Yes. Every commander down to the sergeants knows what to do. I...I just feel like I could be doing more. If you gave me one wing of the army, I could make a difference. You know I could."

"If you are truly worried about the kingdom then you know that you carry its future. And that is quite beside the point that I cannot lose you. You know both scrying and healing magic. If you want to help during the battle that's how you can do it. Away from the front. And you retreat first, no exceptions, no excuses. Understood?"

"Yes, my lord," she snarled, before stalking off. I couldn't blame her. I didn't like leaving my best commander out either, and she still wasn't accustomed to taking her orders from me. I hoped that she never would be. Her arguments kept me honest and made me think. I couldn't help but be humble when she was there to set me right.

I sighed and unwrapped Caliban. It was going to be a long day.


	14. Magic and Blood

==============================================  
CHAPTER FOURTEEN  
==============================================

"I miss my horse," I said.

"What?" Eorvane asked.

"I had this horse for about a month or so while I was running from Bayrd's assassins. He was a friendly sort but always knew what his rider intended. He died in the wastes."

"A horse like that can be a good friend," Eorvane agreed, "Take Candle, here. He's a bit of a jackass but once you're in a battle there's no one you'd rather be with. Once I was injured and he just trotted back out to our side of the lines, as calmly as you please."

There was nothing wrong with the horse I rode now. He was a big bastard, but brave, and hadn't tried to nip or throw me. We were essentially just making conversation. Our forces were drawn up on the hill. They looked rather shoddy compared to the enemy from the South. Many of his troops wore breastplates that sparkled in the light of day, whereas most of my men wore leather and dull chain.

Then again, Tyr would care about how fashionable his soldiers were.

"Forward!" Tyr's voice boomed out, magically enhanced, over the hill and the valley below it.

"About fucking time," Eorvane said. 

"My thoughts exactly. I'm going to go let the men see me and make some noise of my own. Remember to stay out of range until battle is joined. Tyr is a capable mage and is smart enough to target commanders."

He nodded and I rode off at a fast trot. I released Caliban from my grip and she hovered alongside and above me. I wanted it to be clear to all the kind of power that I wielded. She was also handling my magical warding for the time being. 

As if on cue, a burst of fire flew towards me. It washed harmlessly over an invisible sphere that surrounded myself and my mount, about five strides across. I heard men gasp behind me. I didn't blame Tyr for trying that. I hadn't had a lot of magical power the last time we'd met.

Things were different now.

I said a word, making the air which surrounded my entire front line unstable. Arrows began pouring in from below, but as soon as they got within twenty feet of my men, they turned abruptly into the ground or floated harmlessly down like leaves. I heard some laughter from my side. I didn't want them getting complacent but they knew I was protecting them now.

"Fire," I said, enhancing my own voice so it boomed down, although I did not shout. I found it better to do impressive things and make it look effortless. My own archers arced their shots over the unstable air, and I watched as our arrows plunged down unto the enemy like deadly rain. His troops fell, but not enough to make a significant difference. Time to wear them down a bit.

I held my hand out and Caliban floated into it, eager and willing. She'd missed me. And it had been a while since I'd had this kind of fun. I'd never kill for enjoyment's sake, but I'd be lying if I said I took no joy in battle. While I could toss lightning fairly effectively from here, I decided to be a bit more risky. I could almost hear Raisa calling me an idiot despite her being many leagues to the south.

I threw Caliban overhand, hard. She flew much farther than my strength alone would allow, arcing and landing in the middle of Tyr's heavy infantry. To his credit, I saw him shouting orders, telling people to get away from her. I smiled. It was far too late for that.

I spoke words of power and lightning crashed from the sky into her, the thunder nearly deafening. Men flew in the air as the ground erupted with power and blue sparks coursed over their fine plate armor. I waited a few moments before I acted further.

I had supposed for a while now that I could call Caliban to me and she would come, but she wouldn't do so until she had accepted me. We'd practiced a few times and now I was quite comfortable with calling her. What I didn't realize was that with proper, uh, 'bonding,' that she could call me, so long as I was agreeable.

I said the word that she had taught me and I was no longer on my horse. Instead I was beside her, holding her in my hand, in the middle of the enemy. From one perspective I was surrounded, but from another, they were flanked. Before he could act I thrust force in the general direction of Tyr, something that wouldn't kill him but that would be very hard to block. I enjoyed watching him fly from his horse with some satisfaction. Then I simply cut loose in all directions.

Men died surrounded by flames or with ice in their blood. They died as the earth opened and swallowed them or the sky pierced them with lightning. The enemy died and my men watched their leader at work. The truth was that I wasn't killing that many, not enough to impact the battle, but perhaps enough to improve morale, and inspire in them the kind of loyalty that only the Purebloods of the old days had claimed.

When I'd done enough damage I threw Caliban back to our lines and watched her with some anxiety as she landed. If she happened to be insulted about being in storage for so long, then she could make my life very difficult at this particular moment. Thankfully, she responded immediately, and I returned to the relative safety of my side. The whole affair had taken less than half a minute. I smiled, grimly.

My arrogance nearly cost me, as I barely blocked a streak of light that Tyr had directed at me. It was an unnatural and unhealthy greenish-yellow, and I was unfamiliar with its magic although I suspected dark provenance. Although I had blocked it, my hair stood on end and there was an acrid stench that followed it. 

Similar spells were cast all up and down the line, and I blocked what I could, focusing merely on defense for a while. Tyr was distracting me quite effectively, keeping me from doing more mischief or giving orders. Fortunately I had delegated much of that to Eorvane. My job was to do damage and look impressive. To look like a king. 

After an agonizing and exhausting few minutes (how Tyr kept up an endless torrent of those awful bolts I'll never know), he finally stopped just as his forces crashed into ours. Neither of us had much cavalry, and what we did have was being used for scouting. The terrain made charges unwise at best, suicidal at worst. So the lines on both sides were composed of heavy infantry. Strategy and tactics ended, training and drill and blood and guts took over. It was heated, rough, and tiring. 

I used all of my magic skills just to hold my place. Tyr had not come up with his forces as I had hoped he would. Instead I killed his men in droves but they kept pushing closer, driving me back into my own lines. I was starting to get worried as I stabbed some poor bastard though his armor. My plans had not anticipated the enemy getting so close that magic would not be a good idea. 

Our line, however did not break, and only bent a little. Tyr, or his general, sounded the retreat. His men fell back, in fairly good order. Neither of us expected the first assault to break our line. It would take at least a few tries, a great deal of magic, and probably more than one day. By that time his advantage in numbers would grind us down to nothing.

I wasn't willing to make that mistake, and Eorvane knew the plan. Our own horns sounded, and we began to leave at a quick step, our retreat routes pre-planned and with food and other supplies stashed along the way. We had even confiscated as many carts as possible so we wouldn't leave any wounded behind. The dead, regrettably, stayed were they were.

The first battle was over. Tyr held the field.

* *. *

It was late afternoon and we stood on a hill overlooking the great lines of our men, snaking at good speed through the valleys. We could make out Tyr's campfires in the distance, indicating that he had decided not to pursue us immediately. This would have generally been a wise move, but it also happened to be exactly what I wanted from him.

"Our front line units are down to about half-strength." Eorvane said, "Many of the injured will recover as we kept our healers well back so we lost none of them. We never deployed our reserves so they're still fresh. We're doing well for foodstuffs and equipment. If Tyr decides to push us now, he'll be leaving quite a few of his men behind and wearing the rest out."

"And they suffered greatly under your magic, brother," Adewyn said with pride, which made me flush a bit, "While you defended our men more than adequately. I think that despite our retreat, we have the morale advantage. But, if Tyr chooses to push us now, before your strategy has had time to work, then we'll be hard pressed to do more than hold out and retreat again."

"He won't," I said with some confidence, "He's smart enough to know that he has the advantage, and he'll let us march until there's nowhere for us to go, and then either attack or demand surrender. He's familiar with wars of positioning. He's less familiar with what we're going to do to him, and he won't like it one bit."

Eorvane chuckled.

"When you say it like that, you sound like your father."

For once, I did not deny the comparison.


	15. The Counsel of Mothers

==============================================  
CHAPTER FIFTEEN  
==============================================

The camp was quiet and subdued but there was no complaining, no dangerous muttering as I passed by. No one wanted to run away but everyone knew that there was a guiding strategy, not simply flight in disarray. We were much further north now, in another defensible position. This time if we had to retreat it would be through a narrow mountain pass. I didn't intend to run again.

After stopping and making sure that everyone had their orders for the following day, I finally returned to my tent, exhausted and planning on going straight to bed. To my surprise my mother was there, drinking tea as though it were an afternoon at home rather than an evening in a military camp. I did have to admit that she looked much healthier than she had even a week ago. Someone had provided her with a finer chair than what I used. She always drew respect wherever she was.

"Well, that could have gone better," my mother said by way of greeting.

"We don't know that," I responded a bit testily.

"We left and they held the ground we left behind. I'm no general but I think that qualifies as a defeat. I'm not blaming you, son, I'm just stating the truth, as I see it."

I sighed.

"That is, of course, why father valued your council so much. You never simply agreed with him but told him what you thought, in your charming manner. But in this case, you are wrong. We don't know if we lost yet. The battle wasn't here. Well, perhaps some of the show was important. The men saw me out there throwing lightning and proving my blood, but otherwise it was fairly pointless."

My mother looked exasperated.

"Then why did you fight?"

I smiled wolfishly. 

"So Tyr would keep coming north, where we are strong and he is weak. So Raisa could act freely to the south, with my secret weapon. Hopefully. Either way we still have a chance, but if her part went well, then..."

Mother raised her eyebrow and smiled at me. 

"You are so like your father sometimes. Even the irritating way that you keep secrets. Oh, and he also liked getting two of us in his bed at the same time, the degenerate," she said the last sentence with significant affection.

"I have also been called that from time to time. Speaking of which, you're going to be a grandmother."

I chuckled as she spat out her tea.

"Who? Raisa? No, Adewyn! That's why she wasn't at the front line. I wondered why she agreed to that."

"She didn't so much agree as protest, sulk, and then finally give in. I'm going to miss her more at the next fight."

"You're damn right you're going to miss me," Adewyn said, striding into my tent, "Without your older sister, how will you keep from embarrassing yourself in front of the men?"

She smiled and she moved into my arms smoothly, kissing me fiercely. Then she drew back from me and looked at me more seriously. This was different from when we had discussed the battle before. Then she was my most important advisor. Now she was my sister, lover, and mother of my child. And perhaps a bit displeased with the way I had comported myself.

"I understand why you never told me about that mad display of power you had planned. Flying or what-have-you into enemy lines? What were you thinking?"

I smiled sheepishly, and began to rise to my defense but my mother interrupted me, looking at me through narrowed eyes.

"He did need to display himself a bit, but you're quite right, it was foolhardy. Especially given his impending fatherhood. I knew you looked radiant, dear! Come and sit down."

I couldn't help but smile at Adewyn's sudden confused look of distress. Now she would experience my mother at her most powerful: anticipating grandchildren. Within minutes she was being questioned, in detail, about her diet, activities, rest patterns, and sex life. I tried to escape but as I walked past her hand shot out and grabbed mine and I ended up sitting with her for a while.

"Thank you, Aunt Syrlin," Adewyn said with sincerity, "I'm...not really sure about any of this. I just know that I want your son's child very much, and that he has been more than good to me."

I blushed a little. Adewyn wasn't the sort to speak of such things, although she had other ways of expressing her affection for me.

"Adewyn, your mother will be so happy. This nonsense with Tyr notwithstanding, she's always only wanted both of you to be happy. She's spoken with your father about matching you two before."

"Are you sure?" I asked, "She's never really had much patience for me. Not that I blame her, I was a bit of a truculent child."

"That's just how mother is," Adewyn said affectionately, "She likes you a great deal. She...she told me in confidence that she hated what happened to you, Finn. I know she supports Tyr still...but I hope that you won't be too harsh with her."

I laughed, perhaps a bit more ruefully than I intended.

"I don't blame her for that. I blame her for letting Tyr do as he wishes. I don't believe that he can be saved."

"Saved?" mother asked.

"I forgot, we didn't have time to explain things to you," Adewyn said, "But he went on the Journey and he failed. He...he's not sane, and he won't ever be."

I squeezed her hand. I knew her struggle with what he'd become, and knew that she still felt guilt over the harm he had inflicted on her. Sometimes she still said that she deserved it. 

"The Journey?" mother asked, more confused than ever.

"Oh," Adewyn said, with a bit of hostility, "Yes. It's an archaic and dangerous tradition where our male relatives must go into a poisonous cave and speak to monsters that may or may not exist in order to be truly king. For some reason they did not see fit to inform us of this."

"Is this true?" mother demanded, "Did your father take this...this Journey?"

I felt bad for her. Learning that your beloved dead husband kept secrets such as this could not have been easy.

"Yes," I answered, with no reason to lie now, "He passed. As did I. Tyr failed, but survived. Bayrd passed, but failed to understand the lesson of the cave. Or rather he willfully chose to ignore it."

Wait. How did I know that last bit?

Adewyn sighed. I noticed with some alarm that she looked much more tired than she had before.

"Let me walk you to your bed. You need rest, more than I."

I was feeling very protective of her lately, for obvious reasons. She took my arm without complaint, which meant that she must have been more exhausted than I thought.

"Will you wake me if Raisa returns with news?" Adewyn asked as we strolled.

"No," I said, "I will not. It can wait until tomorrow. I want you to rest as much as possible tomorrow as well."

She rolled her eyes but wrapped her arms around mine.

"As you wish, husband," she said, without a trace of irony.

"I like the sound of that."

"What, me agreeing with your manly commands?"

"No, we both know that won't last. I meant hearing you call me husband. I shall endeavor to call you wife from now on."

We had reached her tent. She leaned in and kissed me on the lips, very gently.

"If I wasn't so tired, I'd have my way with you tonight. As it stands...I think you should lay with your mother. She needs you to be her man now. I doubt I'd get much sleep next to you anyway, what with the messengers and all."

"You have no problem with that?"

She shook her head. I was surprised. In theory I could lay with whoever I liked. In practice I had two women that I loved very much and did not wish to drive away through behaving, well, like the younger me would have.

"Not at all. Neither would Raisa. We've discussed it before, alongside other likely possibilities. After all, were father still alive, we might not be yours alone."

"True. Sleep well, wife."

"Oh, I do enjoy how that sounds," she said, before yawning.

I waited while she removed her clothes and lay down. I pulled the blankets over her myself. I had put a few extra female guards outside her tent, largely to assuage my own guilt. I was leading an army but I felt that I needed to be with her constantly as she carried my child. I wonder how father dealt with this. I wonder if he even shared my sentiments. I knew he loved his sisters, but he could be very cold and harsh with them if they got out of line.

I returned to my tent, surprised to find my mother sitting on my bed, hugging herself. She'd put out the lantern and I could barely make her out in the dim light of the campfires. I drew the tent flap closed, which made her just a shape in the darkness. The typically self-assured woman looked a bit lost, her eyes haunted. I'd say that she looked worse, but somehow, even after all this, she looked beautiful. For some women, vulnerability only makes them more desirable. 

"You know, father and I used to discuss you rather amicably."

"Indeed?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes. We both appreciated you greatly as a lover. For whatever reason we never really felt jealous of each other, with regard to you."

She smiled, a little more wantonly, which is admittedly what I was going for.

"It's because I knew how to keep you both happy and worked very hard to never, ever leave either of my men neglected. I know you and your father didn't always see eye to eye, but it would have grieved me greatly if I ever caused any of that strife."

"You never did. I...I had a dream of father last night. I believe it was a vision."

"Really? Why do you think it was more than a passing fancy?"

"He called me a feckless whelp, and gave me some good advice. It was all very much in character for him."

She laughed and it delighted me to hear. No woman had a more enticing laugh.

"Really. What was his advice? Knock up your sisters?"

"Have empathy and take a broad perspective of things. Not all that exceptional. Although he was able to convey some of the things that he learned before he died."

As soon as I mentioned his death she looked away from me. I felt awful but I knew what I had to do.

"Mother," I said, "He used great magic to arrange this. He knew his time was coming and he wanted to be sure someone would be there to correct his mistakes and save his family. His last words were to you."

She looked up now, directly into my eyes, as if challenging me to try and comfort her.

"He said that there is nothing to forgive."

I will admit that while this seemed fairly general to me, it touched something very sensitive in her, perhaps due to the specific wording. She drew her hand to her mouth, tears forming immediately in her eyes. It was as if a wall crumbled, and I saw her as she was, truly. I saw that whatever Bayrd had forced her to do, she still felt deep guilt over it. I saw that she felt responsible for everything for never discussing his attempts to seduce her. I saw that she missed my father more than any one of us could know, and had desperately wished to speak to him and beg his forgiveness. All this was visible to me, and father had tried to help her heal from beyond the grave with abut a single sentence. In that moment, I admired him more than I ever had before, and perhaps understood him better than any of his other children.

I sat beside her on the bed and drew her to my chest. Intending no overtures, I simply held her as she cried. 

"He might think so, but I know I should have done more," she said, after a long time.

"You did what you thought was best. As did he. If they were mistakes, then they were honest. And all of us make them."

She looked up and me and smiled.

"I should stop comparing you to your father. You are your own man. I expected more anger from you and less forgiveness. I was, in the end, a terrible mother to you. I failed in every way to protect you."

I snorted a laugh.

"I have plenty of rage, but I have many worthy targets. If you failed me by not seeing the truth, then I failed you twice. I foresaw nothing, and I left you in the reach of a monster who I considered a friend. Do you think me an awful son."

She shook her head.

"Then you are a good mother. And I need you."

Her gaze turned so rapidly it was almost frightening. One moment it was loving, but simply warm affection, the next it was scorching with its desire.

"Really?" she said, placing her hand on my thigh, almost idly, her voice dropping into a throaty whisper, "And how do you need your mother?" She turned and straddled my leg. 

"Do you need to hear her soft exhalations as you crush her to you?" I felt her large, firm breasts press into my chest as she whispered in my ear.

"Do you need her loving touch on your cock?" Her small, agile hand found my shaft and felt it from outside my trousers. I moaned. No woman knew how to touch me like the one who had taken my virginity.

"Do you need to suckle at her breast?" This time I took the initiative, feeling her breasts through her gown, perhaps a bit roughly. She gasped. I knew how she liked to be touched as well. I reached around behind her and began to undo the laces I found there. She raised herself and moved even closer to me to make it easier. Her breathing was rapid in my ear and her hands were trembling on my chest. I couldn't tell if she was nervous or excited.

As I pulled the last lace free, I unceremoniously pulled her bodice down, exposing her torso as she drew her arms out of the sleeves. She stood quickly and impatiently, and stepped out of her gown before she rejoined me in bed. I pulled my shirt and trousers off with incredible speed. 

"Or perhaps you just need her soft, warm, cunt?" She said as my mouth found her nipple and my hand found her warm, wet sex. She gasped, but as my hand found her other breast she winced, and made a little yelp. I stopped.

"No," she said, "don't stop. It's just a little pain. I don't mind. No!"

The last objection was do to me speaking a word and relighting the lantern with some basic magic. I sighed. The women I loved had been injured far too often lately. She looked away but made no move to cover herself. My cock twitched. She was still among the most beautiful women I'd ever seen. Bruises weren't going to change that.

Her skin was paler than mine, her hair was still dyed a glossy black, although streaks of white were showing through. The lantern light made her violet eyes seem to twinkle and dance. She was never a tall woman, and carried the extra curves of a mature woman who'd borne a child. She was a little thinner than I remembered, but her breasts were still large and her hips remained proportional, giving her an obvious hourglass shape. She took great care with the entirety of her appearance, even going to the length of rouging her large and hard nipples. She used cosmetics but never attempted to look younger, and somehow managed to enhance all of her natural mature beauty which had always drawn men's desire. I had seen many risk my father's wrath and attempt to flirt with her, even knowing she was his First Wife and thus off limits. Despite this she had always remained true to her two men: father and myself, and we had both adored her. Sitting there, I rediscovered my lust and love for her. 

And then, of course, were the marks that my uncle had left upon her. One was on her neck, clearly and obviously from being choked, and not in the way one might with a frisky lover. Her entire left side, including part of her breast, had ugly marks all over, which appeared to be from a beating. She sat on my bed and drew her legs up before her protectively, which enabled me to see the dark lines on the back of her thighs. 

"I didn't want you to see this," she said, "I wanted to be a gift for you. I knew that you'd worry if you saw. And, of course, they're hideous."

"Can you not see the scars I bear now? Do you think them hideous?"

"You're a man. You know it's different. You don't need to make me feel better."

"I'm glad you didn't cover them," I said, moving towards her on the bed, passing my hand through her soft hair.

"Why not? If I had simply hidden the marks and not gasped in pain, you would have been inside me by now, taking your pleasure with my body. I wanted this to be special for you. As my apology. Now you're going to be valiant and comfort me and insist on letting me rest," she said, then sighed, "Sometimes I wonder how someone as good as you came from someone like me."

I laughed, which startled her.

"You make me seem a knight of legend, but you overestimate my chivalry. I'm going to comfort you, yes. I'm going to make sure you feel safe, and loved, and hold you. But only after I make you feel very, very good because I'm going to fuck you hard, mother, like you need, and perhaps even make some more bruises, but in other places. I'm afraid your son has become a bit of a wolf."

I moved towards her, a predatory glint in my eye. As I did so she released her legs and parted them naturally for me. Her chest and face were flushed now and I knew that I could make her wild with desire. We met, and kissed, me pushing her onto her back with my ferocity. My cock laid up hard against my belly and mother ground against me with her wet slit. It took a great deal of concentration not to simply enter her, but I hadn't seen her in so long, and I wanted to make this memorable for her.

A son should take good care of his mother, after all.

She kissed me with expertise that no other lover had, sucking and nipping at my lips before exploring me with her tongue. I knelt, pulling away from her, and her eager mouth followed me up, tasting me, probing me, showing me how much she desired me. I found her sex with my hand, it was soaked, her fine white hair soft on my palm. As I slipped my first finger into her, she moaned into my mouth and then lay back down, her back arched. She was already grinding against my palm, making little chirps and gasps as she approached orgasm.

"You haven't had a cock, a real cock, one that made you cum, in a while, have you?"

"Oh god, Finn. Not for more than two years. Fuck, like that, oh fuck touch me, son. Sometimes...sometimes I prayed for you to return so I could be with a man who I loved...and who would care for me and fuck me how I needed....oh gods that feels good. I felt so dirty and selfish, but I fucked myself with my fingers nearly every night to thoughts of you. Oh gods!"

Her wet warmth twitched and spasmed around my finger as she had her first, small orgasm. I knew her body better then any other lover. She needed time and care to be spent upon her, to be loved and taken in equal measure. 

"You...you can take me...oh gods...now...Finn. Please..."

I smiled cruelly. I had never stopped finger fucking her, even as her body went limp from the first orgasm.

"No," I said, before kneeling between her legs, locking eyes with her, and sucking her clit into my mouth. Her taste was hard to describe, smooth but sharp, like aged whiskey.

"Oh gods, Finn. It has been so long...I love...oh gods...I love you. I'm yours now. All yours. Only...oh gods...yours."

I pushed another finger inside her, a little bit roughly, my tongue lapping eagerly at her labia and then back up to her sensitive nub. I looked up at her and she was watching me through eyes half-closed with pleasure. Her soft, curved form was covered in a glistening layer of sweat from our exertions. She was about to cum again. I pushed a third finger inside her and sucked her clit into my mouth again, then released it and began to lap it in alternating patterns, but ever increasing speed. I felt a rush of warm liquid as her sex lubricated itself again.

"Oh gods, Finn, Finn, Finnnnnnn!" she cried out, her hands in my hair, grinding her mons against my face, desperate for more sensation as the orgasm rode her, took her, and carried her like a wind storm. I wasn't done with her yet. Her body pulsed and twitched as I seized it, and pulled her close to me roughly, then kissing her soft, lovely belly and moving up to her breasts. I worshiped there for a time, taking one nipple in my mouth and squeezing it tightly between my lips while my hand tweaked the other one.

"Oh fuck. Yes, Finn, my good boy. Oh yes, suckle there, suckle and bite as you did long ago. Show your mother how much you need her body."

I looked up at her and saw her in her glory her hair pressed to her head with sweat, her eyes glowing and alive, her smile sensual but also full of the promise of love. Her legs, short but strong, wrapped around my waist as she pulled me up to her.

"Do you want your son's cock so badly, woman? Why should I give it to you?" I said with heat behind my words, provoking her to beg. I knew that she loved for her men to possess her, to demand from her rather than ask, to take and own.

She paused and pressed her fingers to my lips briefly, locking eyes with me, looking at me with intense and almost mournful love.

"I am my son's slut. I will always be his. I will be his plaything and I will love and serve him. I will kneel before him and pleasure him and drink his seed as if it were the finest wine. This is my oath to you, if you will but give me your fine, hard cock. I love you."

I entered her with some force, grunting with the effort and with the great pleasure of being inside her again. She cried out, loudly. She tried to hold me within her but I was beyond being controlled. I gave her long, fast strokes of my cock, each impact making her squirm and whimper. I felt her nails digging into my back and knew that I would be bleeding when we were done. I kissed her then nipped and bit her on the less bruised portion of her neck, with full intent of leaving my own marks.

"Yes. Make me yours, Finn. Do it. Take me and fill me with your cum. Make me your property, your willing slut, oh, oh gods, Finn, I'm cumming...oh please..."

We came together, desire overriding both of our ability to speak. Her eyes rolled back and she gripped and pulled me into her with fantastic strength. I drove into her as deeply as I could go, intent on filling my mother's womb with my virile seed. I felt long strands of cum leave me, over and over, until my cock hurt, spasming in her. For her part I could feel her body tense and relax over and over as the orgasm rolled over her, driving her to great heights and leaving her powerless to do anything but ride the wave. I finally felt more warm liquid around my cock. 

We collapsed together, tangled limbs and soft kisses and panting need to be together, to be one with each other.

"I love you, Finn. I'm sorry I couldn't save you," she said, with tears in her eyes.

"I love you, mother, and there is truly nothing to forgive."

We held each other like that for a long time, hands exploring each other, kissing, nuzzling. There were no words until we fell asleep.

* * *

I woke up a few hours later, and unable to stop my mind from dark thoughts, I settled for being relaxed and holding my mother protectively. She must have noticed and woken up herself.

"I'm still quite fertile, you know..."

I was surprised by this sudden conversation, and then worried.

"If you're carrying Bayrd's child, I won't be..."

"Oh, Finn, I know you would support me and raise such a child as your own. I'm not pregnant though and I did absolutely everything I could to prevent that from happening. I...I simply meant that I went to the healers you have here in camp and had one of the Goddess' Chosen divine my body. She said I was largely healed from...my experiences and that I could very well still get with child. Even that it would be quite likely if I made love with a virile man soon. I was surprised...but I will confess to being a bit excited. After all, there's only one man I want to leave his seed inside me any more..."

"Gods woman are you trying to get fucked again already?"

"Of course I am. What kind of a mother would I be if I didn't properly care for my son? But more sincerely, is this something that you would welcome? Even for a Pureblood, inseminating your mother would be a bit...scandalous."

"I live for scandal. Besides, everyone seems to still think I'm out seducing farmers' daughters and wayward priestesses. This way they'll know I'm a family man at heart."

Mother laughed with genuine mirth.

"Oh, how I missed your cunning tongue..."

* * *

Mother left me during the night and I woke with a different woman in my bed, always a confusing situation. Although this one was fully dressed and sitting cross-legged beside me, eating sweetened bread in great bites like a little girl who'd stolen it from the kitchen. Come to think of it she probably had stolen it.

"Good morning to you, my beautiful young bride."

"And to you, my ever-handsome husband."

"I take it by the amount of honey and butter on that bread that you are celebrating a successful mission?"

Raisa grinned, a little honey stuck to her chin. She was still quite adorable for a killer.

"Parla sends her regards and reports victory. The supplies are hers and the passes are blocked. Tyr is trapped like a starving rat."


	16. Decisions

==============================================  
CHAPTER SIXTEEN  
==============================================

One Month Later

It took Tyr longer than I expected to figure it out. He thought that he his baggage train had fallen to a raid and that everything would be easily replaced. Never mind that we'd captured months of food, equipment, and many camp followers, including family members of those who marched in his army. Never mind that we'd brought the heir to the Duchy of the Irons over to our side, closing all the passes back to the south to him. His advisors must be begging him to sue for peace by now, but I knew that he would not.

Tyr still outnumbered us in terms of soldiers, but he was in enemy territory with no way home. He could resupply "from the land" as it was known, but I knew from experience that meant raiding the populace, stealing the food that the people needed to live, as well as their wives and daughters. The various highland clans that made up the bulk of the rural commoners were not drilled soldiers, but they were accustomed to their own type of harassing and raiding warfare. Duke Eorvane had kept them well informed as to what was going on, and they had begun their own efforts.

If Tyr didn't fight us, he would be bled to death by raiders, desertions and hunger. This is why Eorvane and Adewyn were arguing with me that late autumn morning. 

"I mean no disrespect, Finn, you know that," Eorvane said, exasperated with what he certainly saw as a foolish and impatient prince, "I simply hate to see you squander our advantages. We can avoid him, keep him from resupplying, and then defeat or negotiate with him when he is weakened, after or in the winter."

I sighed.

"I fear that we may delay too long," I said, cursing my inability to recall the Journey, "Tyr is dangerous and so is his army, but Bayrd is the wild card. We must get to him as soon as possible."

"It's like arguing with a block of wood!" Adewyn said, somewhat less diplomatically. Her moods had begun to swing in proportion to the size of the child in her belly. "Eorvane is trying to save you from yourself, you half-wit! If we lose our army, there is no other, and Tyr can siege the north until he wins and your empty head ends up adorning a pike in Marche Grodayn!"

Eorvane had paled at this latest outburst, no doubt worried at my reaction. He had found himself lately in the unfamiliar role of peacemaker, as Adewyn's already formidable temper became somewhat legendary around the camp. Typically I think I would have argued back, but I had no logic to stand on, only half-remembered figments and hunches. They were right to doubt me. I sighed.

"Very well," I said, finally giving in to sense, "We'll march north, as Adewyn suggested, give those highlanders a chance to worry at Tyr's flanks. In the meantime I still want to be able to march quickly if an opportunity presents itself. And...I need some goddamned understanding of what is happening to the South."

I regretted my choice of words as Raisa spoke.

"I'm sorry, Finn. I know I've failed you. My agents are reporting in, but all of their news is months old. I don't even know where Merwyd is, or if Bayrd is coming north. There have been no reports of any soldiers moving near or towards the passes, and no military ships have attempted any maneuvers north of the Irons."

Her eyes had deep circles from the amount of work she was putting in and the worry that had afflicted her. Merwyd was her full sister, and they were close. My constant pestering for news and updates did not help, and I could feel that she was both upset at me and feeling incompetent in her new role as spymaster, which was unfair to her. She did her best with what she had to work with.

"You haven't failed me, Raisa," I said, finally thinking before I spoke, "I'm simply being a lout. You can't find something out that no one knows about. Bayrd was father's spymaster. He may not be a general, but he knows how to control information and to keep secrets. He...may have chosen to sacrifice Tyr rather than try to get him supplies and reinforcements. It fits what I know of his plans. I know you are doing all you can with regard to Merwyd and troop movements. Instead of pushing harder for more information, look at what we already know and see if there are any patterns that stand out to you or that make no sense. And if you can't sleep, see the Temple Healers. You're no use to anyone if you're too tired and ill to function."

I could see that Raisa wasn't entirely happy, but she at least acknowledged my understanding of her difficulties.

"Everyone else knows what to do. We march tomorrow for the Northern forest."

* * *

We'd marched successfully, resupplying on the way. If things went as expected, we'd winter here while Tyr blundered about. If he was foolish enough to chase us into this territory, we'd have every chance to ambush him, escape, or simply find a defensive holdout before he could get to us. I still felt a gnawing at my gut.

It was early morning, and I was done with sleep. In fact, sleep seemed to have abandoned me entirely. For a man with as many women as I had, I wasn't getting laid with any regularity either. Raisa had thrown herself into her work and was desperate to prove herself, mother was sick with the illness that was traversing the camp (thankfully simply digestive and not lethal), and Adewyn had made it clear by her sharp words that she wanted to sleep alone for the last week or so, in contrast to her prior near-constant state of arousal. 

The skies were grey with high clouds, there was snow on the ground, but not much. The lake where we drew our water wouldn't freeze over completely for another month or so, but it was beautiful and clear, with fish visible from the shore. I'd decided to walk through the forest surrounding our encampment, hoping that the clear air and the scent of pines would snap me out of my ongoing depression. I seemed to be in a perpetually twisting state of worry, suspended and bound by strings that only I could see and that no-one else believed in. 

I found a stump of one of many trees taken for our temporary fortifications and sat on it, heavily. I sighed, looking out at a stream which fell from a cliff high above down to the lake's surface, perhaps two hundred strides or more. 

"Do you mind if I join you?"

I jumped up, startled. I had lost myself in my thoughts, completely unaware of my surroundings. Adewyn stood not ten strides from me. I should have heard the crunching of her steps in the snow, but I had let her sneak up on me.

"Yes," I said, happy to see her, even if she was almost certainly going to end up arguing with me about something, "Please take my seat."

She smiled. I was pleased to see her in the furs that I'd gotten her. Her baby bump was quite obvious now, even through her relatively loose clothing, although still fairly small. She sat on the stump and then pulled me down next to her, cuddling into me as I wrapped my arm around her.

"That's better," she said, "I missed you these last nights."

"All you had to do was ask and you know I would have been there."

She shook her head.

"It's hard to explain, but...I just felt like I had to be alone. You can be restless when you sleep, and, to be honest...when both of us are in the same bed, we don't always get a lot of rest. And I've just been so tired lately, the idea of sex hasn't appealed."

I laughed.

"I understand. Mother has prepared me for the many, many different possible issues with a pregnant woman."

"Oh really?" Adewyn said in mock annoyance, "I'm an 'issue' now?"

"Oh no, darling. Truthfully you've always been an issue."

She hit me on the arm lightly and laughed, then grew serious.

"Did she tell you anything about the problems with Pureblood pregnancies?"

"No," I answered, very interested, "She refused. She told me that was for women only. Although I don't know how I could possibly support or help you without knowing at least something...."

Adewyn shook her head.

"We keep some things to ourselves for a reason. It is enough for me to know that you are understanding, loving, and concerned for my well being. Everyone has been. Eorvane's wife has been sending me chocolate candies, which I admit is possibly the greatest bribe I've ever received. Your mother has been beyond helpful. And I don't know what I would have done without Raisa as my confidant and friend."

"I'm glad you and Raisa are getting along," I said, "I've heard horror stories of Pureblood sisters hating each other. And of course, brothers sometimes stab each other and dive out windows, although that is a bit more extreme."

"Raisa is afraid of you," Adewyn said, out of the blue. I was taken aback.

"What?"

"Well, she wouldn't phrase it that way, and she'd hate for me to be telling you, but yes, she's afraid."

"Why? I'd never hurt her."

"Hmm," Adewyn said, considering her words carefully, "I agree, and I've told her that, but it might be wise for you to chase her down and reassure her. She's been unable to be as helpful as she'd like as your spy. And after all these years of laying with you, she's still not pregnant. Pureblood women have been discarded for much less."

"I'd never discard her. I'll speak to her, make sure she knows her value to me, beyond spying and carrying children."

"Good, but...there's something else that both her and I are afraid of, and we can't solve on our own," Adewyn said, and I heard worry creep into her voice, "What are your plans for Merwyd?"

Without any effort on my part, my face dropped into a cold mask of neutrality.

"I'm not sure what you mean. Of course I'd like her with us here instead of Tyr."

"Don't lie to me," Adewyn snapped, then sighed and took a deep breath, "Please don't lie. Not even if I'm pregnant and you think I'm irrational or need to be protected. Neither I nor Raisa nor your mother are stupid. I mean, what do you intend to do with her and her child if she had any part in your betrayal? Or was complicit somehow, before or afterwards?"

"Gods, Adewyn," I said, truly feeling resentment towards her despite myself, "You ask for truth but you don't want it. I already have to kill Tyr, but you know that. If she betrayed me once then she'd do it again, and for all your and Raisa's assurances that she loves me, I've seen little sign of it. She would be a threat to keep around, even imprisoned. And thats to say nothing of the kind of danger her child poses. Any rebellion would revolve around her as the bearer of the 'rightful lineage'. She'd be made a pawn and then used to make new instruments of rebellion. So you tell me, what does a king, a good king who wants peace, do with a traitor and her spawn?"

Adewyn grew pale as I spoke. I thought she was angry, but it seems that she was just horrified. How she thought things could be different, I don't know.

"Her name is Gwyn."

"What?" I said, genuinely confused.

"'Merwyd's spawn,' as you called her. Her name is Gwyn. She's almost five. She's quiet and wise, always listening. She loves fry-bread as much as I do, and she very much enjoys walks in the forest. She knows the names of many bugs and birds and plants. She understands how to create both light and fire already, and her teachers think that she's gifted."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"If you're going to murder a child, then have the fucking courage to admit that she is a child. Not a threat. Not some monstrous spawn. She chose neither her mother nor her father. You pretend to be a good man who understands the plight of women, but as soon as one poses even a possible danger you threaten to kill her and her child, as if they were nothing but rabid animals."

I stood up, my voice raised, my heart racing. These were things that kept me up at night. How the fuck could Adewyn not know this? 

"What the fuck would you have me do? How many times must I be betrayed before I am allowed to think of myself and those I love? Perhaps I could poison the blade for her this time and make sure that I die properly? Gods, you fucking think you have answers but you haven't even considered the question. What happens if Tyr kills me? What happens both of us die? Truly? If I'm gone and Tyr's gone that means one of you lucky sisters gets to be the pawn of whoever strives for the crown. And make no mistake, even if you somehow seize control of your own destiny, one of you will doubtless end up the killer of another or your niece or nephew. You won't want it, but it's defending your child, isn't it? If it came down to our child or Merwyd's, can you honestly tell me that you wouldn't do exactly what I'm suggesting?"

By the end of my little rant I was shouting, red in the face, enraged to even be having this discussion, with her, of all people. Someone I trusted. Maybe I was wrong to have done so. I was ready to fight, to yell, to tell this woman I loved, the mother of my child, to get from my sight. Thankfully, today, she was the better person.

"Peace, love," was all Adewyn said, holding out her hands, which I took "Let there be peace between us. I don't want this fight. Please don't hate me. I...I just want you to think about it, rather than just assume and accept that you must do the ruthless thing. That's what father often did, and he would tell you that he had no other choice. Maybe he's right, but please, just consider everything. Consider all of your options, and see things from Merwyd's perspective. That's all I'm asking. Even...even if she's already dead, you'll never forgive her or move past this if you don't. And I think if you killed a child, you'd end up killing yourself. You aren't father. You are a better man, unless you choose not to be."

"I'm sorry," I said, much more softly, "This has been on my mind for a long time. There's no...fuck...no ans...."

Adewyn looked at me, confused at first as my words stuttered and stopped, then worried.

I was suddenly no longer angry, but I couldn't slow down my breathing. This awful thought had been weighing on me for so long, truly since I heard that Merwyd was pregnant. I wanted desperately to believe that she was innocent of any knowledge of my betrayal, that she had been forced under threat of murder to lay with Tyr and bear his child. Because I did not want to kill her. I did not want to kill her child, or Tyr's child, or any child, for that matter. I just wanted to live and be left alone. But I wasn't allowed, so I had to take the throne, and think of everyone's children. Why couldn't she see that? Why could no one see the awful things that you had to think about? Tyr didn't think of them, he just did what he wished. Bayrd thought of them but didn't care, he just took what he wanted. Why couldn't I be like them? Why couldn't I just make this easy? Oh fuck I didn't want this. I never wanted this. Any of it. I just wanted peace. I just wanted Merwyd happy and Gwyn alive and playing and my own child safe. Would my own child even live to be born? Would they survive to speak? To grow to adulthood? Would they be stabbed by Gwyn or someone working for her?

"You're scaring me, love," Adewyn said with true fear in her voice, "What's wrong?"

I wanted to tell her all of this, but I couldn't make my mouth form words. My vision collapsed to a tunnel, and then disappeared. I felt sick. I fell. I felt nothing.

* * *

"He just collapsed," Adewyn said, in the distance, "We were talking...oh gods no we weren't. We were arguing. I was trying to get him to understand something, and we got heated. And he just stopped in the middle of a sentence. He looked so afraid and cornered, and then he fell over. I've never seen him like that."

"What on earth were you talking about?" mother said, upset and afraid.

"Merwyd...and Gwyn. I just wanted him to think..." Adewyn sounded unsure of herself now, as if she had made a grave mistake.

"Oh for fuck's sake," mother said, truly angry now. "Now isn't the time for him to think about that."

"Yes it is," Raisa said, softly and...gods, so sadly, Why was my little sister so sad?

"He has to think about it now," Raisa went on, "Because if he doesn't, then he's going to make a decision whether he wants to or not. Will he be angry when he sees my sister and niece? Afraid? Will he have Tyr's blood on his hands? Aunt Syrlin, I trust you and I love your son. I love him so much. But imagine what this would do to him. Imagine what father would do if he felt you had betrayed him and that Finn wasn't his. Imagine if he killed you, his favorite, his true love, and your child. Do you think he would be well afterwards? Do you think that would make him a better man? A better king? Would his other lovers ever look at him the same or trust him again? No. Finn has to think about this now. He's put it off long enough and it is causing him harm. So we need to help him deal with this, even if it means making a decision for him. Let me do it. I know what has to be done."

I faded out.

* * *

I woke in my own tent, not long after. I felt rested and safe. I felt better.

"The healers say that there is nothing wrong with your body, but your soul is torn in two over a decision that you can't make. I don't think either of us need to be told what that refers to." Raisa said. She was sitting next to me on the bed, her legs drawn up underneath her.

"Were you keeping watch over me?"

"Yes."

"Thank you," I said, taking her hand. She squeezed it and smiled wanly at me.

"Do you want me to kill them?" She asked so simply it was almost frightening, but I could tell that she was serious.

"Gods no. I'd never ask you kill your sister or your niece."

"Do you want me to find someone else to do it? There are people from the Seyla temple that will kill children. They pride themselves on doing it quickly and without pain."

"No! Why are you asking me this?"

"Because it is my duty to you. To protect you and eliminate your enemies, no matter who they are."

"So you think they are a danger to me?"

She was silent for a long time.

"What if it were already done?" she said, looking at me with cold corpse eyes.

"What?" 

"What if I had already...dealt with them? So you didn't have to. In a plausible way. Cleanly and mercifully."

"Raisa," I said, softly, "what are you telling me?"

I felt my breathing pick up, my vision collapsing again. I was sweating all over but cold. 

"I'm telling you that you wouldn't make the decision, so I did it for you. They're dead. You don't have to worry about it. No one will ever know, I made sure that the bodies won't be found or recognized. And I'll never tell, for obvious reasons. You never have to worry about them again."

I opened my mouth to respond, but couldn't. I felt the bile rise in my throat. Thankfully someone had placed a bucket near my bed. I barely got to it In time, bending over it and dry heaving. My stomach was almost entirely empty as I was having as much trouble with eating as sleeping. I felt Raisa rubbing my back and I wanted to yell at her to leave. Or tell her how much I hated her. But I didn't. This was my fault for not making a decision, for forcing my wife and spymaster to do it for me.

"Relax, love," Raisa said, finally, "I didn't hurt them. I would never do so. I don't even have any idea where they are, although I suspect that they escaped. Merwyd is very clever, but you know that."

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would you do that?" I was less asking questions than shouting them at her. Anyone standing outside could easily hear my rage.

"So you could see for yourself how you would react to such news. So you could see what kind of man I already knew you to be. I put the bucket there because I knew you would be sickened. I'm not just pleading for my sister's or my niece's sake, although I do love them both. I'm pleading for yours. I'm sorry to have hurt you, I just couldn't think of any other way."

I wretched a little more, and then sat there for a while, trying not to think of what might have been.

"Love makes me feel weak and defenseless," I said, finally.

"If love is weak than let me never be strong," Raisa said, smiling down at me as she handed me a wet rag to clean myself, and then water to wash my mouth out thoroughly, before moving the bucket out of the tent. When had my little sister become so wise? I felt something like confidence come back to me, and gratitude.

"I'm certain that they are still alive. When you find them, protect them and bring them to me. Then we can decide together if they should stay with us or leave and build a new life elsewhere if we can't trust them. I won't hurt them and I trust you to protect me."

"As you wish, husband."

Something else occurred to me.

"Without you I would be lost. I couldn't bear the thought of you leaving my side."

Raisa's eyebrows went up, but she smiled very warmly.

"What brought that up?"

"This conversation. This morning. Everything you do for me."

"Oh."

I leaned in and kissed her softly, longingly. Exploring her lips for a while before her tongue entered my mouth. She gripped the back of my head with her small hand and held me there, with some desperation. Now that Adewyn had explained it to me, I could feel her fear of abandonment, see it in her motions, always pulling me toward her and holding me in place. I would make her understand that I needed her more than she needed me.

"Do you think I don't know how much I owe you?"

"What? Finn, you don't owe me..."

"Yes I do. You'd never ask me to pay you back, because that isn't how you think of things. You asked me for one thing, really, and making love to a beautiful and sensual woman is its own reward. And making a sister like you First Wife? That isn't a reward, that's just common sense. I trust you with my life because I already owe it to you. And I don't feel bad about it. If you're with the right person, it isn't bad to owe them. It doesn't feel like debt. I could spend the rest of my life trying to be worthy of the kind of love that you feel for me, and one day, maybe, I'll deserve you."

This time she kissed me, her hands moving over my chest and back with urgency, her small body pressed against mine. I was already hard and she ground her hip into me, her sex rubbing up against my leg, clearly almost unconsciously. She stopped and stepped back just slightly. Just enough for her small, hand to wrap itself around my cock and squeeze and caress it through my pants. I moaned.

"Please?" was all she said. It was enough.

We pulled off our clothes quickly, no teasing, our mutual need too strong. She lay back on my bed and spread her legs for me, her trim red thatch wet. Her sinful little smile matching the promise of her tight little slit. My cock ached as I approached her and got on top of her. I guided myself into her forcefully if not hurtfully, but she was definitely no longer a virgin, and I couldn't wait. I filled her and she gasped, putting her hands in mine. I moved mine quickly and held her wrists, pinning them above her head as I began to fuck her. Raisa liked being powerless, at my mercy. 

"Finn...I can't...I can't get away..."

She wasn't trying to get away, although she was squirming and panting beneath me like a bitch in heat. Raisa knew that if I ever did anything to upset her that she could tell me to stop and I would. Of all my lovers, she was the one I felt most protective of. She was the only one that had been mine alone. I fucked her, quick strokes to build her up and then slowing down as she came close. I kept her on the edge as I began to speak to her. 

"Do you know what you are, Raisa?"

"Oh Finn. Please say it...tell me..."

"You're my good girl, Raisa. My good little sister. My good, tight, gorgeous little sister. The best little fuck I've ever had. I wish I'd had you the first day...the first minute your sweet little pussy was ready."

"Oh god, Finn, that's what I wanted, so badly. I wanted to be yours..."

"Now you are. You're mine and I'm never letting you go. You belong to me and I to you and nothing will change that. Ever."

Raisa rolled and bucked underneath me, her small body tensing, her muscles clenching and releasing me, her gasps turning into something like sobs. She came, hard, shaking and trembling. I released her wrists and cradled her head against my chest. 

I left her and she moaned as I pulled out. I gently rolled her over and she complied, laying on her fron. Gods she loved to be moved or posed by me into any position, old or new. I lay on top of her, our bodies almost close enough to meld. My cock entered her wet folds again, and she cried out, not from fear but pleasure. She turned her head so I could kiss her. I pumped into her, feeling my self reading to cum. I reached around her and gripped her small breasts, pulling her small form into mine. I mauled her neck, nipping and biting at her.

"Oh yes, Finn, like that. Mark me up, make sure that anyone who sees me knows that I'm yours."

"Raisa, I need you, love. I need your sweet quim and your love. I need all of you."

"Oh fuck, Finn. How do you make me feel like this? Don't leave. Please don't leave."

"Never, love. Raisa, I'm, oh gods I'm cumming..."

She cried out and forced herself back at me again and again, making sure that I buried myself as deeply as possible within her, as close to her womb as she could stand. She came again and I followed. I felt all of my built up seed filling her. I felt something like magic, passing from me to her. I'd already become accustomed to visions and strange manifestations of sorcery, always out of my control, when I came, but this was rather new. 

"Finn, oh gods, you've...oh gods I feel it happening..."

It was a strange turn of phrase but I gave it little thought as we've all said something like that in the heat of the moment. I felt her having rapid orgasms, one after the other, her body thrashing, her little hands clenching into fists and releasing helplessly. Her cries silenced as she gripped my sheets, as if holding on for her very life. Finally, she went limp, satiated.

She looked up at me and her look was almost sad, but I realized it was just her, her walls down, her vulnerability exposed. Only for me. I kissed her and she responded. I was still inside her, and my cock was still fairly hard for a long time after I pulled out.

After we rested for a bit together, we got up and dressed, together, basking in the warmth we felt for each other. I took her hand and then we went back out into the world together.


	17. The Battle of Red Snow

==============================================  
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN  
==============================================

One Month Later

Winter was coming early, or so it seemed. The ground had a foot of snow on it, and while it still melted with some regularity, it was replaced quickly. No blizzards yet, at least. The men had food and furs to keep them happy and drill to keep them occupied. Sickness was minimal. Things were going well for us.

"Tyr is coming," Raisa said, "There can be no doubt. He's leaving scores of his diseased and injured troops behind him and his men are starving, but he's coming."

"We can still evade him," Eorvane said, "he's not going to be moving particularly quickly. It won't take much for us to slip away."

"He's losing whatever he had left of his sanity and humanity," Adewyn pointed out, "and we know he's executing entire villages now, even when they pay him homage. It makes no sense and the people are suffering. I think we should take the risk now and fight him. His men must be on the ragged edge of morale."

Raisa shook her head.

"We can't assume that," Raisa said, "to many in the south he is still the rightful king. When pressed even starving men may find hidden strength."

"Are you saying we should cut and run?" Adewyn asked, incredulous.

"I'm not saying we should do either. I'm the youngest sister so I get to sit on the fence. I'm just saying I think his men still have fight in them."

"I'm not sure I ever heard that rule about youngest sisters before," mother said, chuckling, 

I stared at the map quietly for a long time. The four members of what had become my council waited patiently and quietly for me, knowing my new, slower pace of decision making. 

"Where is Parla?" I asked.

"She's moving in obedience to your orders," Raisa answered, "we lose touch with her from time to time, but she's shadowing Tyr, raiding when she can, and retreating when he tries to chase her. She's only got about a tenth of his forces, but they're well supplied, and the people love them as they've been helping the refugees."

Parla's orders allowed her a great deal of latitude, by design. She would strike if she saw an opportunity, especially if Tyr moved to engage us. If she didn't see one then she would threaten and harass his flanks and make an annoyance of herself.

"We will fight," I said at last, "we know the ground, our men are better, and their blood is up. His numbers will mean little once he enters the forest. This is where we will defeat him."

"Very well," Eorvane said, sighing.

I smiled.

"Don't worry old man, I never said we'd fight fair."

* * *

We made every stand of pines a source of danger with traps and trained archers and rangers to ambush their scroungers and scavengers. We made every outcropping of rock a guard tower, or at least enough of them that Tyr couldn't afford to ignore them. We killed his sentries simply to fade back away into the night. We left the corpses of his dead scouts just outside his camps for him to find in the morning.

Always we led them further in, to where we chose to fight. It was good terrain, defensible, at the top of an incline. We had a mountain to our back. There would be no escape. This was intentional. We wanted Tyr to come, unable to resist the opportunity to destroy us utterly. That was the criteria that I had provided Adewyn and she had found the perfect spot.

Tyr's men approached us from the south, marching in grim order, forming up well. We watched from our position at the head of our troops. Like Raisa and Eorvane, I could see their fine armor was beaten and rusted, their uniforms worn ragged. Some didn't even have boots, the poor bastards.

Unlike my two companions, I could sense the enemy's rage, sorrow, and helplessness

"I hope you have a plan," Raisa said.

"You know the plan," I responded, confused.

"No, I mean for calming Adewyn down. She really didn't like being sent away with your mother one bit. She said swears which my innocent ears had never heard before."

Eorvane chuckled, joining in.

"You're a braver man than me, Finn," he said.

"Everyone's a jester," I grumbled, "she's only a few months from giving birth. I hate sending her away, where I can't help protect her. I almost sent you with her as a guard, Raisa. It's not too late to do so..."

Raisa's narrowed eyes told me how that conversation would have gone.

None of us were on horseback today. Eorvane would be in general command again, directing the soldiers to tactical reactions. I'd be in front, with a focus on protection after the initial magical duel that I anticipated. Raisa would use her skills to remain out of sight, but she would stay close to me. 

"Eorvane, you'd better get back to your command," I said, "things look to be heating up."

"Good hunting, sire," he said, shanking my hand, and walking to the rear.

"He called you sire," Raisa said, smiling.

"He did indeed. Perhaps wishful thinking, but appreciated. You can assume your preferred position at any time. I'm going to review the troops a little."

She nodded and vanished from my sight, right in front of me. That was new.

For the next half hour I strode up and down the line, stopping to speak to my men and officers, asking about their families and plans. It was for morale purposes of course, but I was genuinely interested. I had grown to care for my soldiers and the camp followers, as a father would for thousands of his unruly children. I was asking much from them, so I needed them to understand that I would do whatever I could to make their lives better, their households prosperous, and their families safe.

Later I found out that there was a joke going around that, despite my young age, I had fathered half the army in preparation for this moment. I'd have to stress to my own children the lasting impact of reputation. 

After a while I returned to my position in front of the troops. Tyr's army was arranged in a half circle around us, making use of his numbers to force us to fight everywhere at once. He was telling us well in advance that there would be no escape. He was correct in that assessment. I noted that he had stretched his lines fairly thin. I hoped that I wasn't the only one that had noticed. 

Snowflakes began to fall, somewhat swiftly and the wind picked up. Within five minutes it was a full blizzard, and Tyr's army disappeared from my view. I heard a distant shout calling for his men to march. Dammit, this was magic meant to cover his advance. I'd never learned how to influence the weather, so I wasn't sure I could counter it either.

I mentally communicated back and forth with Caliban. I rarely ever gave her instructions, and never orders. After a minute or so, I leaned back and threw her straight up, then closed my eyes and linked my mind with hers.

She was floating a few hundred paces above us now, looking down. As expected the blizzard effect was limited to our lines only, his men still marched under open skies. I noted that there were several individuals obviously charged with magic scattered throughout the lines. I guessed that they were there to target anything that came out of the snows. I knew that Tyr hoped that I would attempt to repeat my prior performance. It was a good plan.

It was about to backfire. 

As I was not visible to the enemy, I was free to lower my defenses a bit. I began to channel the air and fire, and while I did so I drew heavily upon the sadness and frustrated anger of Tyr's own men, who I could see quite clearly, while also calling upon the fortitude and discipline of my own. I did not attack at once, but let the energy build potential, until I felt full. Then I kept going.

I decided that control was overrated. I'd try and get some of the mages and of course Tyr, but really, shock was the order of the day, literally.

When the first of his men had started their climb up the slope, I released everything I had pent up. Lightning crashed down, powerful and angry, and not just one place. All through Tyr's lines bolt after bolt of the gods' fire rained down. I directed it but guiding such power was like trying to control a mad horse. My perceptions were dimmed but I know at least one such massive strike landed near Tyr, and perhaps knocked him from his horse. Beyond that I couldn't say. 

Suddenly, I became aware that my skin was no longer as cold. The blizzard had stopped. I opened my eyes and called Caliban back to me, almost too late. The sky was now clear and still, and from far below one of the nameless mages had thrown a massive icicle at me, easily the length of two men. Where had he found such talent? 

I destroyed it with my will, bursting it from the inside with fire. It shattered, most of it melted. What didn't melt impacted me. I felt stinging on my face and sides, some sharp pains all over, and one deep impact in the left of my abdomen. Well, shit.

"Finn!" I heard Raisa shout.

"No, stay concealed! I'll need you for when the melee starts! It looks worse than it is!"

Truthfully I had no idea how bad it was or even how it looked as I was very carefully not inspecting my wounds. My most important responsibilities were to my men's safety and morale, and I could do nothing about either from a medical tent.

I raised physical protections up and down my line as the arrows started falling. I raised magical ones as the surviving war mages pummeled us with energies. There were none of the strange green bolts my brother had used in the last battle, so far. I became focussed, almost meditative. Caliban linked herself to me, fulfilling my will and meeting my needs before I could express them. I finally understood the true nature of the artifacts of the old Purebloods. 

As things progressed I found myself tiring, but not exhausted, and I began to see, or rather feel, the underlying rhythm of my enemies' magic. I saw spaces where I could act if I was swift enough. I did nothing particularly fancy or impressive, just fired arrows of light back at the war mages whenever I could. Slowly their magics began to go silent, as I killed them, one by one. I never truly enjoyed killing, but I had inherited my father's love of the hunt, and these were clever and dangerous game.

The magic began to die off. The enemy was close now, one hundred paces away. My own men were shouting and ready, their morale far higher than it had been even moments ago. I didn't understand why but I said a prayer of gratitude, then rolled fire over Tyr's lines.

Things became a blur. Magic, then the clash of arms. Men dying around me to sword and spell. My heavy infantry repelling and driving Tyr's men away. I knew that Raisa had periodically faded in and out, picking off men she believed to be dangerous. I felt the old familiar call of battle madness.

I was shaken out of my killing frenzy as someone from my lines tackled me to the ground as a great noise shook me. I smelled rainstorms and knew that a lightning bolt had just missed me, thanks to my savior. She was, however, moaning in pain.

"Raisa, fuck," I said pulling her to her feet as I stood, "that's not how you're supposed to protect me you reckless fool!"

She was quite clearly burned on her side and hip, her armor there terribly torn and smoking, mostly gone. 

"Sorry," was all she got out before going limp in my arms.

I swore and pulled her back into my lines, out of sight of the enemy. Caliban floated around me protectively, and I felt her drawing on my magic and warding me instinctively. My men moved in front of me without being prompted, bless them. I laid her on the ground and felt her pulse. Still alive, perhaps a little weak and unsteady. I pulled out my dagger and cut away the laces on her armor, exposing the burned area completely. I put my hands directly on the wound and she twitched in unconscious pain. No time for subtlety, I healed her with force. Her back arched, her small hand reached out and grabbed my arm. Gradually, she relaxed. Her burns were almost completely gone.

"You!" I shouted at a boy who looked far too young to be here.

"Yessire," he replied immediately.

"Take my sister to the medical tents. Get her aid."

He lifted Raisa's small limp form and ran away. I hated myself for leaving her in the hands of another. Mostly though, I hated Tyr. I knew it was him who had tried to kill me and failed. No one else would have that kind of power save for a Pureblood. Well, I wouldn't make a similar mistake.

I drew Caliban back to myself and she floated back to me. I strode back through the lines of my men, who parted again for me. The fighting was still intense but my men were holding. Good. In the distance I heard shouting of a different nature, unseen but I knew who belonged to that war cry. I smiled. It was already over, I just had to make sure.

I entered Tyr's lines, killing with fire and ice and spear. Men screamed, in both pain and fear. The enemy was fleeing from me now, no longer trying to reach me or stab me, they simply wanted away from this bloody monster who did not seem to tire or pity. They had nowhere to run. I saw a man, bravely ready to face me, pierced by an arrow to his back. 

The Three Sisters Company had arrived, and Parla was driving into Tyr's flanks with abandon. I could see them, compressing his line in several places, being the hammer to my anvil. Wiping them out or forcing them to surrender. Tyr was right after all. 

There would be no escape.

And there he was, on a white horse and shining armor, cursing and throwing magic towards my own lines, probably desperately trying to find me or Eorvane or just a way out. I took my time, lined up my shot, and threw Caliban at him.

His eyes shot up, sensing the great magic heading his way, and he reared back so that she would miss him. No matter. Caliban called to me and I answered. 

Suddenly I was there, in mid air, my momentum shifting with Caliban but my greater mass slowing me down. I looked at him, met his eyes, saw his fear, shock, and madness. I said a word. He had no time to react.

His form exploded from within, icy red crystals of his blood bursting forth from his body, which collapsed into chunks and fell to the ground, shattering. Parts of him remained intact and I could see his cold, dead eyes as I crashed to the ground with a painful impact. Men screamed in terror and begged for their lives. I felt little satisfaction and much sorrow. 

The war in the North had ended.


	18. Reunions

==============================================  
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN  
==============================================

The camp was pure madness. Shouting, cheering, arguing. For once no one was looting, and both victor and defeated were celebrating. I was not and would not be until the war was truly over.

Raisa was fine, but resting. I'd visited her but she was still out, sleeping peacefully and looking beautiful. She'd probably be up in an hour or so. I'd sent for Mother and Adewyn, but they hadn't returned quite yet. I was worried about all of them, naturally.

For many, the war was over, too injured or sick to fight. There would be no prison camps for Tyr's men. They could go home if they wished, leaving their weapons behind and taking food with them, or they could swear oaths to me and join my army. In any case, no-one would leave here without being fed and cared for. They were my people now.

Some seemed to have problems with ending their war, retaining some loyalty for Tyr, but their own natures made them good men and better than he was. When they found that they wouldn't be punished for their service, I could see the resistance in them breaking. They wanted their homes, families, and peace. I wasn't particularly afraid of anyone running to my uncle. Not after today. 

I hadn't seen Parla yet but it was only a matter of time. The Three Sisters Company was camped adjacent to us and sooner or later she'd be by, to discuss payment if nothing else. She had a choice to make as well. She could be paid, quite well I might add, and leave for the continent, or she could be paid even more and stay with us as we penetrated into the south in a few months. I wouldn't force her but I wanted them with us, badly. They had struck hard and decisively at both battles, and proved their worth to me.

I was seated in a simple camp chair at my headquarters, occasionally approving decisions but mostly resting. I was exhausted, but couldn't sleep quite yet, still too much to do. Eorvane was ecstatic, as he should be. His war was mostly over too, although I would take many of his troops with me. I was leaving him in charge of the North as my Viceroy, with full rights and military powers. I'm certain he was making a list of all the wonderful things his new patron could do for him. After all he'd committed to me, I could hardly blame him.

All was hustle and noise and bustle, somehow more busy after the battle than before it. We would be marching to nicer, warmer quarters for the rest of the winter, somewhere closer to the passes that would take us to the South, and victory. 

It was there, as men and women moved and ran and argued that I saw her wander into the tent. She was quite small, and a little dirty, the way children were when they had been playing for a while. She held a small bear to her chest and was looking for something or someone, perhaps a little afraid. I could see at once that she was going to be stepped on or knocked over, either in here or back out in the camp. So I did the only sensible thing, I stood up and walked over to her.

"Hello," I said, kneeling next to her, "what's your name?"

She looked up at me, brown curly tresses a mess, all huge green eyes. She was silent and shy. 

"Would you like to wait here while we find your mother?"

At this she smiled and nodded. So I picked her up, carried her back to my chair and set her on my knee. I called over to one of the young lieutenants that Adewyn had appointed.

"Yessire?" she said with the eager professionalism that only the young have.

"I need you to go find whoever is missing this child. She can stay with me for now, but her parents must be worried."

"Um," she said, clearly unsure about her assignment, "at once, sire."

She dashed off.

"Why did she call you sire?" A small voice asked.

I looked down at her, smiling.

"Sometimes, I honestly have no idea. Today, its because they believe me to be their king."

"Oh. Is it scary?"

I blinked. That was an odd question.

"Yes. Sometimes. Other times its rather fun. Much of the time it's a bit boring though. Is your mother or father a soldier here with the army?"

She shook her head.

"Do you know where they are?"

She nodded, but looked a bit confused.

"Mommy is out there, waiting. Daddy isn't anywhere, not any more."

"Oh," I said, feeling a wave of compassion for this small girl. Many camp followers were looked down upon, but they were frequently the wives, husbands, or lovers of soldiers, and of course children like this, "Well, I'm glad to meet you. My name is Finn, what's yours?"

"Gwyn," she said, before returning to play with her bear.

I swore I felt the earth shake, for just a moment. Could it be? I looked closely, very closely at her hair. There, at the roots, was deep red, like her mother and aunt, barely visible under the simple chestnut dye. When I felt the magic coursing through her, I wondered how I could have ever been so foolish. She looked up at me, adorably surprised. I could tell that she felt my magic as well. When fate speaks, one must listen to her. 

Of course, if she were here...

Without thinking, I found myself hugging her to my chest. It was instinctive, and felt right. I felt tremendous guilt for the first time at killing her father, and at ever even considering having her killed. I felt like a murderer being given reprieve.

"Sir, uh, we found the child's..."

The poor young lieutenant never got to finish.

"Finn," Merwyd said, smiling down at me, "it's good to see you."

* * *

I had been unable to breathe for a moment and I'm sure Merwyd thought I was upset. I was, but not the way she was thinking. We quickly moved away from the headquarters and back to my own tent. They could handle themselves for now. A million things went through my head. What to do about her living arrangements. Did she wish to stay or go? Would we talk or argue? For whatever reason I had assumed that Raisa or my mother would be here for our reunion to smooth things over a bit and make sure I didn't fuck this up to badly. 

As we entered the tent, I heard Gwyn whisper to her mother.

"He's magic too, mommy!"

I smiled and Merwyd smiled back.

"I know," Merwyd said, smiling at me in a way that my body responded too almost uncontrollably, "He's very magical. He's your uncle."

Gwyn had seated herself on my bed and now she looked up at me, thoughtful. Her face had become impossible to read. Even her magical aura grew cloudy. So young to be afraid of one's male relatives and have to conceal one's thoughts. I sat down at a chair, a little distance away. Merwyd sat next to her daughter.

"He's safe, honey," Merwyd said, frowning a little, "we're both safe now. He's not like... He's a protector."

"Mmm," Gwyn said, looking unconvinced. I laughed.

Both mother and daughter looked at me with mirrored expressions of confusion. I laughed some more. 

"You're wise, little one. Take all the time you need to get used to me. Words are fine but actions are how you judge men, especially Pureblood men. Let me show you what kind of man I am, if you let me."

Gwyn smiled and nodded, visibly relaxed. I finally took a moment to myself and drank Merwyd in with my eyes, as I knew she was doing with me.

Merwyd's hair was dyed black, which looked lovely with her fair skin. When last I saw her it had been her natural dark red with streaks of white. Now I guessed her hair would have changed to be entirely white. She was barely taller than Raisa, but her natural curves had been enhanced by motherhood. The simple peasant blouse and skirts that she wore revealed that her breasts and hips were fuller, and they made her naturally sexy walk intoxicating. Her round face had a few more lines in it, as was to be expected, and they brought more attention to her fine and lovely features. Perhaps she had more freckles. Gods I'd missed those freckles. Her dark green eyes, once pools of innocence, now spoke of the wisdom of difficulties and loss. Right now they expressed pure joy.

"Thank you," Merwyd said, her lip trembling.

"For what?"

"For being kind to your niece. For being welcoming. For not judging Gwyn by her...her parents. I wasn't sure you want to see either of us, to be honest."

"Neither was I, until recently. I was very confused about what I should do. About what happened."

Gwyn had laid down while we were speaking. She must have been very tired. Merwyd looked serious for a moment, like she was coming to a long-debated decision.

"I'll tell you anything you want to know," she said at last, "I won't lie or hold anything back. Then you can decide what you want to do with me...with us."

"I want to know so much about your life for the last five years," I said, sincerely, "It will take more than one night."

"I was hoping to get more than one night with you," she said, with her little knowing smile. I'd forgotten how that smile affected me. She was gently stroking Gwyn's hair now. The poor girl was already asleep. That was the moment that I realized that if I was given the chance, I would raise her as my own child. There was no doubt, no anxiety, just a kind of perfect clarity that I wasn't used to in my life. 

"Let's start with how you got away. It couldn't have been easy, being First Wife? I talked about it a great deal with Raisa. Honestly though, I wasn't sure if you even wanted to."

She went a little paler at my mention of the phrase 'First Wife'.

"I did want to escape, very badly," she said, then looked a little more uncertain, "Well, for a long time...I didn't. It's complicated. Can I start from the beginning?"

"Of course. I want to hear all of it anyway, as you know it. Not as others saw it or as I worried it might be."

She smiled, then wavered.

"Will you sit over here, with me? I promise not to, uh, try anything. I just want you to be close to me, like a brother and not a liege. You can pass judgement on me from here just as well..."

She was definitely nervous. Or at least she seemed so to me. I made a decision to trust her. Or rather, I stuck with the decision I had made earlier. If I was to love then I had to accept that the ones that I trusted could hurt me much more easily than the rest of the world. And I didn't want to live in a world where I wasn't allowed to love Merwyd. That world could burn.

I got up and sat next to her. Together we leaned back against the headboard, she between me and Gwyn. It was very much like old times. In the past she would have leaned into me, and I would have put my arm around her but we were both too hesitant for that. Like nervous teenagers rather than old familiar lovers.

"This is much better. Thank you," she said, "so I'll have to skip a lot. But you can stop me and I'll answer any questions. Or you can ask me whenever. I'll...I'll tell you everything. There's a lot of things I had to do that I would rather not think about, and many, many decisions that I'm not proud of. I'm willing to accept whatever you decide, but I only ask that you don't my choices reflect on Gwyn. Even if...even if you had to send me away, or...well. She would do well with you and my sisters to raise her, is all I am saying."

"I'm going to withhold judgment until we're done speaking," I said, with remarkable calm for the turmoil that I was feeling, "but you should know that I love you. A great many things have hurt me, for a very long time. But I've never stopped loving you."

"I love you as well," Merwyd said quickly, "even more now, than before, because...well it won't make much sense. But I do love you, and I'm going to do everything I can to convince you and earn your trust."

"So," she started, "I guess I have to start before you were betrayed. Because I didn't tell you things, and when you were dead I came to understand that was a betrayal too. Tyr had been trying to bed me for ages. I had stayed on his good side, however. I had flirted with him, laughed at his jokes, even...even let him feel me up once. Father would have let him simply take me without any commitment on his part, but mother and her sisters wouldn't. As long as he refused to make binding marriage with me, they stood between him and my bed. Your mother in particular refused to budge. She saw the love between us and pointed out that it was the same between herself and father. Syrlin threatened to stop sleeping with him altogether but he put his foot down and threatened to throw her out and have you disowned. He could be ruthless, you know that. But your mother still had influence over him, so he came up with a solution. One that no one told you about until it was too late."

"The day...the day that Tyr tried to kill you, when I left your bedroom, I was worried for you. I don't know if you'd noticed, but I had a lot on my mind. Father had said that morning...he'd said that I had to cut it off with you, because you were too weak to do it yourself. Tyr wanted me and that was all there was to it. Older sons and heirs get what they want, and younger sons must adapt. But, father said, it wasn't all bad news. I would marry Tyr, as a normal wife, and provide at least one child, and then be released to be with you. That was father's plan to keep you...compliant, if Tyr remained heir. Tyr understood this, and approved of it."

"Tyr didn't hate you...he saved that for his sisters. He just wanted to make sure that you knew you were his inferior, and the best way to do it was to have me in his bed for at least a year. Then he could pretend to be bored with me, release me, and make Adewyn his First Wife, like he and father both really wanted. You and I could be together, but I worried that you wouldn't want me any more, after someone else had me. I worried that you would think I had betrayed you, for power. I worried that you would act impulsively, like you do sometimes. So I said nothing...I gave my little speech about coming back to you and thought I was doing the right thing by keeping you in the dark. When you returned, Tyr and I would be married, father would explain to you how things would work, and all would be well."

"The idea made me sicker the longer it weighed on me. I imagined if the situation were reversed, with you marrying Raisa, and me being told that I could have you only when she was done with you, and having to watch her take you to bed every night and gloat over it. Women are used to the idea of sharing, but not being wholly denied. Only younger sons have that experience. It's why they used to drown third sons, back in the old days. Being married to Tyr was wrong. I slept with a man who just wanted to hurt you and I didn't say anything, because I thought it was the only way. I'm sorry. I truly think that if we would have ended up together, you would have resented me, maybe more than you do now."

"Of course, what I didn't know was the other part of father's plan. I know you viewed your assignments as busy work, or training for servitude, but it wasn't like that. Tyr had done similar things when he was younger, and while he did very well with magic and diplomacy, he could never take any advice or criticism, even from those who were assigned to teach him. He was a poor leader and worse general. Father told me years after you had disappeared that he had been challenging you to force the magic out of you, and then he would have made you heir, because you were better suited for kingship. This is why he suspected that Tyr killed you. But he couldn't figure out how Tyr found out and he had no proof. He had told no-one of his plans to make you heir until after everyone had believed you were dead."

"That first week after you fell was the worst of my life. I kept hoping they'd find you, and then fearing that they would. Once a few days had passed I was sure that you were dead. After all, Raisa had searched for you herself, and found no trace. I didn't even suspect that she would lie to me. It was, of course, the right thing to do for you. Then Uncle Bayrd came to see me. He said that I was to marry Tyr, immediately, no questions asked. It was that or I would be considered a party to your treachery. Gods help me, I went."

"When I got to the small family chapel at the castle, father surprised all of us: Tyr, myself, Adewyn, his sisters. He declared that I would be Tyr's First Wife, and thus unalienable, with sovereign rights and duties. I could never leave him and he could never release me. I was livid, but I kept my anger in check. Adewyn...she just looked broken. She mourned you as well, you see, but still had Tyr to look forward to. And now he would be mine first."

"So we got married. Tyr told me the 'truth' about how you betrayed him and tried to kill him. A little part of me found the idea of a fight breaking out plausible because...well, because you act before you think sometimes. But trying to murder your own brother in cold blood? In the sanctuary? Never."

Her eyes grew teary and she couldn't meet mine.

"He finally bedded me that night. I didn't resist him. He was...not gentle, and almost as insatiable as you. He also had...unhealthy interests. Things he liked that...gods, were unpleasant. Sharing with... I'll tell you if you ask, but I won't pretend to want to talk about it. Until I got with child he spent all of his energy on me. I hated those first months. Gods help me sometimes I tried to like it, sometimes I even came, mostly I didn't. I began to have these awful dreams of you. All you would do is stare at me, and you looked so sad. I always woke up crying. And then I fell pregnant."

Merwyd looked at me now, her eyes feverish. I saw reflected back at me her fear, her expectation of my rage. I saw it and silently thanked Raisa for her cruel trick. Although I still held some anger, my resentment for Merwyd was gone, as if it never existed at all. Instead I saw a woman who, like my mother, had to do many things that she did not wish to in order to survive and protect her own child, not to mention her impulsive lover. Things that I might well have done. She wasn't finished, however.

"I didn't want her. Gods help me, I hated her from the moment I vomited for the first time. I considered ways to rid myself of her. Tyr's seed was how I thought of her. His awful spawn had infected me. I considered my options, weighed them carefully. I even made several concoctions that would do the job. Then my mother and yours came to see me. They knew what I was thinking of doing, although they never said so. They merely pointed out that once I had a child, boy or girl, Tyr's virility would be proven and his final victory over you would be demonstrated. He would probably move on to Adewyn, who all knew he still favored, or possibly even Raisa, who did such a good job of concealing her feelings that he regarded her as his most loyal sister. Then, I would be left largely alone, with some degree of authority as his First Wife. Whereas if I lost a child, he would just try again. Over and over. And, your mother quite adeptly noted that if I didn't want to raise Gwyn myself that I wouldn't be the first Pureblood woman to feel that way. There were always nannies and wet nurses and her grandmothers would assist as well. So, despite it feeling like the ultimate betrayal of you, I bore Tyr's child."

"Most unexpectedly I loved Gwyn from the second she was born. Now things were worse for me in a way, because Tyr had a handle on me. He threatened to take her away if I wasn't compliant, and wherever I was he made sure that someone was always watching our child. And so, on the surface, I was quite agreeable. I did everything I was told and I did it well. I appeared the dutiful wife. I even put Adewyn in her place a few times, quite like a good First Wife should. And my resentment and hatred for both Tyr and father grew. As did my understanding that, at some point, I'd need to be free of them."

"Much happened, but it isn't what you need to know just now. Tyr went north with Bayrd around two years ago, the two had become inseparable, and came back changed. Cruel. He started to spank Gwyn for the smallest infraction. I couldn't do anything about it at first. Then, when he was enraged about some perceived slight, he hit me, knocking me to the floor. Just once. This violated my sovereign right of sanctity. Father had disappeared by now but there were enough witnesses that things started to get ugly. Servants spoke of rebellion. My mother and her sisters went to Tyr directly and told him what happened to Pureblood men who beat their First Wives. He never hit me again, and largely left me alone. I felt quite proud of myself. Before she left I found out that he had simply turned his new violent inclinations on Adewyn instead. So, once again I betrayed a family member despite my intentions."

"Then you came back from the dead, and saved us all. Adewyn rode out as soon as she could. Raisa got me a message through her network of servants in the castle, explaining everything. We communicated back and forth like that. She insisted that you might mean harm to Gwyn and I, which...I understood, if I had a hard time believing. I knew that you wouldn't hurt me or a child, especially my child, once you saw us. So we waited, and planned. I packed bags, including dye for our hair and food and clothes that made us look like simple travelers. Tyr marched north. Your mother disappeared next. I think she wanted to take us with her but there was no way to avoid our guards. Then, perhaps out of paranoia, Tyr sent for us to join him at the front. I felt it, in my gut. This was the opportunity we'd been waiting for. At the same time I knew, I just knew that I would be reunited with you soon, Finn."

"We slipped away easily during a night spent at a roadside inn. We only had four guards, and they weren't the best men. My plans were changed a bit when we found two armies between us and you. But one of them Raisa had told me about, the Three Sisters Company. She gave me names and details that they would know, like the name you fought under, Seath, and things you'd said to Parla or Bartles. I took Gwyn straight into their camp. No one questioned us until we reached Parla's tent. I explained everything as best I could. At the end she just laughed and said that she should thank me. I asked her why. She said that I was the one who broke your heart, which is why you joined them in the first place. I didn't find the humor in that, but they treated me well. Especially Bartles. She watched Gwyn and played with her all the time, and answered our questions about you."

"And that's how I got here. I don't know how to make all this up to you. I was...used by a man who tried to kill you. I allowed it, because I couldn't think of a better path. Gwyn is a blessing but I still feel so stained in your presence. Like I can never be clean enough for you to be inside me again."

I turned and looked at her, stroking her cheek. God, she looked so beautiful. Age and difficulty had weathered her, but not broken her. I wish that I could make her see what I did. There was nothing unclean about this woman. There was a purity to her that had never left, that couldn't be taken away by a lustful and possessive madman. I held her eyes as I leaned in and kissed her, soft and slow, exactly like we did after I carried her home on my back that day over a decade ago. I conveyed all of my feelings in that kiss, and I felt her understand in her response.

"Oh," was all Merwyd said when we finished. We heard a snort of laughter from the entrance to my tent.

"Gods," Raisa said, "it didn't take you very long to get him back into bed, did it?"

Merwyd blushed adorably, as she always did. I, however, did not care whether Raisa's words were intended to shame me. I sprung from bed, like a boy on his birthday, ran over to her, picked her up and kissed her. After I set her down I looked into her eyes for a few moments. She was blushing now as well.

"I should save your life more often," Raisa said.

"You've done enough of that," I said, "you don't know what I felt when I saw you laying out there, or how wretched it felt to send someone else to carry you to safety. Gods, you have to stop getting hurt for me."

"Mommy, he's kissing Auntie Raisa too!"

Gwyn had apparently woken up to see me kissing her mother, and now was scandalized to see me doing the same with her aunt. Good for her, she shouldn't tolerate cads like me. I stood back from Raisa so Merwyd and Gwyn could both embrace her. It was clear that there was still great love between the sisters, which I was pleased to see. 

I will not share what they said, but there were tears and laughter and stories. Gwyn told her own version of how they escaped and ran and how she met me here in the camp. Her favorite part, clearly, was meeting Bartles. I told Gwyn that the Wyldblood was also my good friend, and I could tell that her estimation of me went up a bit.

Eventually, conversation died down a little. Raisa squeezed my hand and gave me a little wink, which confused me at first.

"Hey Gwyn," Raisa said, "would you like to stay with me tonight? We could go see Aunt Adewyn and Great Aunt Syrlin when they come back. Adewyn is pregnant so you're going to have a new cousin soon!"

"Oh yes! Can I, mommy?"

"Of course you can," Merwyd said, "and I'll get caught up with your uncle."

As she spoke she looked back at me with such heat I was almost burned.

Raisa stepped over to me and kissed me on my cheek.

"Enjoy tonight, love, " Raisa whispered in my ear, "I'll understand if you want to make her First instead of me. It wasn't fair of me to demand that."

"No," I said, "my promises still stand. All of them. You can't get out of your commitments that easily."

Surprise flickered over her face, and then there was just a hint of wetness at her eyes before she regained her composure.

"Come on, Gwyn," Raisa said with a wide smile, "let's go find something to eat."

Then they left, hand in hand.

"She's very good with Gwyn," I observed. Merwyd nodded.

"Raisa would make an excellent mother," she nodded, "I'm surprised she isn't already."

"Not for lack of trying," I said, "but she's sensitive about that. I won't care if we never do though, I love her all the same."

"I'm glad," Merwyd said, reaching out and taking my hand, "although I was a little surprised to find out that you were making her First Wife."

"Surprised or angry?"

"Just surprised. I know you won't mistreat me or abandon me, so being First has no particular appeal. Except for being able to boss my sisters around. Gods I hope you know that Raisa's going to be insufferable with Adewyn and me. There will be a great deal of payback from all of our teasing. We used to make fun of her crush on you. I was especially bad, as I wanted you, too. Now she's going to control who has access to you, and when."

Our eyes met as we stood there in my tent. I intended to speak with her for a while longer and take things slow. I could tell that was what she wanted as well. But the bond between us wasn't dead after all these years. It was alive, and demanding.

I moved into her, kissing her, fiercely, more so than I had as a younger man who was virile but perhaps uncertain. I knew what I wanted and I reached out to take it. I had my hands on her ass, no longer as firm but soft and inviting. I pulled her into me, crushed her so she could feel the hardness of my cock alongside her sex. I felt great heat coming from her, and she moaned into my mouth. I kissed her more fiercely, on her neck.

"Gods. No one else has ever kissed me like that, Finn," she said, gasping.

I put my hand under her shirt, gently held her breast, then felt the need for my skin on hers. I stopped and pulled her shirt off, slowly. She complied with my every movement, smiling. She repeated the action for me, taking mine. I pulled her close to me, feeling her heavy breasts and hard nipples press into my chest. I held her so tightly that she probably had trouble breathing for a moment. She kissed me on my neck and my chest, her warm breath on my skin making my cock practically pulse with need. I was filled with such want for her. I gripped her hair at the base of her neck, and pulled her head back, gently, but firmly. She moaned at my possessive gesture.

"Say that you belong to me," I ordered, my voice calm but firm.

"What?"

"Say it!"

"Yes, Finn. I'm yours. I belong to you."

Her breathing sped up, her flush grew.

"Say that you'll stay with me."

"Yes, Finn. Forever and always."

I pushed her down unto he knees. She didn't resist, and looked up at me with shock at the nature of my desire. I'd always been giving as a lover, and gentle. Today I wouldn't hold back my need. I would take her in a way that she would know she was always mine. Merwyd's gaze turned to hunger as I pulled my own pants off and my cock was revealed, hard and throbbing. 

"Is that what you want?"

"Yes."

"Then tell me what you want. Plead for it."

She licked her lips, and looked up at me. I read worry in her face. Fear that I was toying with her or that I might use her and discard her. I would never do that. This was for both of us, she would see.

"Finn, I want your cock. I need it. Please...please let me suck it. Please let me pleasure you with my mouth and show you how much I love you."

I nodded and she took me in her mouth with eagerness. I placed my hands in her hair but I rested them there, I did not force her. I groaned deeply as she used her tongue, always so clever and quick, to find my sensitive places. Her hands were not idle. One worked on the part of my shaft that she could not easily take, while the other played with my balls, gently. She locked eyes with me and took me as deeply as she could.

"Oh, fuck, Merwyd that feels good."

I felt her throat constrict around the head of my cock, and she gagged but only slightly. She grew more eager with my response, not less. It was obvious that she was gaining great arousal from pleasing me. In fact it was as though she were in the desert and the only water in a thousand miles was going to come from my cock. The intensity and speed of her mouth made delightfully lewd wet noises as she serviced me. Her large breasts swayed as she moved in a way that I found irresistible.

I gripped her hair and stopped her, not harshly, but firmly. She looked up at me, confused, afraid that she had failed me in some way, or that I was rejecting her. I smiled down at her, reassuring.

"Get on the bed," I said.

She did so, quickly, excitedly. I pushed her skirts up but did not remove them, yanking her panties off, stripping her as soldier might take a woman he found while looting. Her ass, now larger after motherhood, jiggled invitingly.

"Merwyd, your panties are soaked. Is this all for me?"

"Yes, Finn. I've been wet since I first saw you. I've wanted you again for...for so long. Please claim me again. Make me yours. I don't want anyone else. Ever."

I put my cock at the entrance to her fine lips, swollen with desire. Her thatch was untrimmed and a bit wild, pure white and soft as down. There's nothing in the world like the sex of a Pureblood woman. I held myself there a moment, barely able to restrain myself.

"Please don't tease me, brother. Make my pussy yours again. I love you and I'll prove it."

I pushed into her, roughly and hard. She moaned, with volume. I began to fuck her, plunging into her wet warmth with abandon. I let my hands roughly feel her full breasts and then began to kiss and suckle at them, taking her nipple between my lips and nipping and squeezing it, hearing her whimpers and moans raised my blood. I felt years of frustration in every stroke, slamming into her, bruising her. But she did not stop me or slow me, rather she encouraged me, drawing me into her with her arms and legs.

"Finn, yesss. Please, punish me with your cock. Please. I'll do anything for you, anything. What Adewyn is too proud for or Raisa too innocent. What you can't bring yourself to do to your mother. If you won't take me for your wife then your concubine. If not that then let me be your whore. As long as I'm yours."

Beneath my passion was that which drove it, what I concealed for fear of being weak. Sorrow, grief, and loss. All the things that I wasn't ready to face years ago when I pulled myself from that cold lake, all alone and dying. I fucked her harder, my own breathing was ragged, I was exerting myself harder than I had in months. She was clinging to me, showing me her love by weathering this storm, rolling her hips into me, grinding.

"Oh fuck Finn. I can't take it...please don't leave me. Please. Please cleanse me. Cleanse me with your seed and claim me again. I don't want to be alone any more, alone and dirty and used and unloved. Please love me. Oh fuck, Finn, I'm cumming on your cock. It's been so long since...ohhhhhh goddssssssss..."

Her words turned to moans, then cries, then screams as her orgasm hit her, hard. It pulsed and shook her, and she clung to me even harder as it punished her at least as hard as I had. It took her like a wave in a rough sea, rolling her under itself, driving her down into the dark beyond light or breath. She was sobbing by the end.

I came, finally, buried to my hilt inside of her, feeling my cum enter her almost in a continuous stream. It was as though my body knew she would be here, and saved much for her. I filled her and more. I imagined it like a river of love pouring into her. I collapsed on top of her. I didn't want to, I couldn't support myself any more, I had no strength left. I had no idea how much time had passed while we were making love. I fell asleep, and it was like falling out of that window all over again.

When I woke, I felt different. I was afraid at first, because I hadn't felt that way in years. It wasn't anger, or grief. It wasn't comfort or relaxation. It was...completeness. With Merwyd here, my family was complete.

I was also pretty sore. At some point, I had, thankfully, rolled off of Merwyd, and was laying on my back. She was awake, and laying on my chest, her small hand playing idly with the hair there. As my breathing changed, she looked up at me, smiling.

"I loved being taken by you, Finn. Will you do that more often?"

I laughed. I missed how kinky she was.

"If I do that too much I won't live much longer."

"Well, not quite that rough," she said, "I'm going to be sore and bruised for a week at least. But I feel..."

Merwyd trailed off, and I saw that she was crying. She controlled herself, and went on.

"I feel whole. I meant everything I said. It wasn't just the heat of the moment. I'll do anything for this. For you. I know you must hate me for what I've done. I just want a chance to be yours again."

Hate was something that I realized was becoming foreign to me. Rage wasn't. I still felt it all the time. I felt it in battle, I felt it for the wrongs committed against me or those I cared about. But hate? That simmering resentment that I knew I felt in a pure form for Tyr, and in a mixed and confused way for Merwyd. It was gone. 

Raisa and Adewyn. My mother. Merwyd and Gwyn. Even the vision of my dead father, who I still felt anger for. Each of them had made me see events in a different light, feel things the way others did. Where I had previously seen pure malignancy I now saw human weakness and selfish and short-sighted decisions and those who were victims of them. They made me angry, yes, but the cancer of hate afflicted me no longer. 

"I don't hate you Merwyd. I don't hate you and I won't hurt you or force you away. If you want to stay with me, you can. The only question is one of trust. If I make a mistake and someone I trust betrays me then it won't just be me getting stabbed and going out a window. It will be as good as turning the kingdom and maybe everyone I love over to Bayrd, including you."

"You can trust me! I never wanted...any of this! I wanted you! You should...you should be Gwyn's father! I should have been laying under you, as your wife, not that worthless bastard!"

I believed her. The look in her eyes was one of panic and desperation, almost feverish. I'd never seen it from her before, and it worried me. I held her.

"Merwyd, I love you. I trust and believe you because I've chosen to do so. I need you to understand what it would mean for you be my wife after being Tyr's First. You will always be suspect, and someone will always be watching your behavior, no matter my wishes or orders. You can't assume that it will ever end. If that is something that you are prepared to deal with, then I want you by my side. And of course Gwyn. If you want, I will adopt her. No one will treat her as less than my other children."

She was crying now, really crying. Not softly, but sobbing. She couldn't bring herself to speak but she was nodding in agreement. I was adjusted to her being the most controlled and logical of my sisters, someone who, if she had to cry, would hold it in until she was alone. A dam must have burst within her, releasing years of fear, worry, and guilt. The lovemaking had been cleansing for both of us, but this was healing. Eventually, she calmed down, and relaxed completely into my arms. I held her in silence for a long time, both of us touching each other as if reassuring ourselves that this was real.

Neither of us had any idea if healing and forgiveness would be enough, but we were together again. My father would tell me that I could never trust her, ever. Although I was like him in many ways, I was not him. I had a quiet faith in Merwyd that I could not explain had you asked me. I didn't know everything that had happened and maybe I never would. After all there was much that she would probably prefer not to tell me unless I asked her directly, and there was much that I would probably prefer not to know.

I was however much like Bayrd, which made me more concerned. I had done many stupid and impulsive things in my youth. If I was faced with the choice of losing Merwyd, Raisa, Adewyn or even my Mother forever or taking drastic action, I might make similar decisions to those my uncle had. Dealing with demons might be foolish, but he'd go about it as carefully as he could, maximizing return on risk, just as he did as a spymaster. I simply had no idea how to respond to this threat until he took action. I was certain that he would, and soon. I sighed, deeply.

Merwyd, looked up at me, concerned. I began to understand how anxious she would be to please me for some time. I'd have to do something about that.

"Something else bothering you love?"

"Yes. Nothing to do with you though, just something I can't get out of my head. I hope that I'm wrong about Bayrd. If I'm right then the war in the South will be much worse than this."

* * *

The following day was a bit mad, with arrangements being made for amnesties for soldiers and knights, new oaths taken, and Tyr's rather impressive war chest being counted. Parla and I met and negotiated her payment.

Well, I say negotiated, but really I just paid her what Raisa had promised and then made a very generous offer if she'd stay with us until the war was over. She agreed and then we drank ale and got caught up. She had left a few minutes before I did. As I walked out I was, briefly, distracted.

Before you judge me, let me assure you that I was in no way tempted. Simply because I notice a beautiful woman doesn't mean I intend to bed her. I was quite satisfied and grateful for the women that shared my bed. 

That being said, I was married, not dead. 

She stood near to my own tent, and I could only see her from the back, but I could tell immediately that she was, close to twenty, and extremely curvaceous, with a tiny waist. She dressed simply, in a peasant dress that she filled remarkably. She had medium length hair, and it looked to me as though she had put some ivy in it, which was quite exotic. In a camp full of soldiers, a woman like this did not go unnoticed. She was speaking to three young infantrymen and one knight. All were laughing at her jokes, which were, looking back, probably pretty funny.

I didn't recognize her until I got close enough to hear her voice. Hell, even then I doubted myself for a moment. 

"Bartles?" I said, feeling vaguely guilty for feeling attracted to someone who I had last seen as a child.

She turned around and smiled, and then ran up and hugged me. Perhaps unintentionally, hugging the would-be king had the effect of scaring off any would-be suitors. 

"Seath! I came here to find you! I wasn't sure if you'd remember me..."

"How could I forget you? You were always so irritating, there was no chance."

I said it, but I did so in jest. She laughed. She only had the barest hint of her teenaged awkwardness, and I could see that what I thought was ivy in her hair was her hair. I smiled, more appreciative of her beauty, but not in the way I might typically be.

"You've blossomed. I thought you would."

She blushed, and it had a faint greenish tinge.

"Why didn't you tell me? I knew...I mean I always knew I had a little Wyldblood in me, but...I didn't expect this. It still frightens me a bit..."

"I didn't tell you because I wasn't sure if it would happen, and I'm no expert on the process. But I can feel it. You've got deep magic, girl. You were always pretty, and now you're devastating. Like a fae princess from the old stories."

"Oh shut up," she said, bashfully, "you would say that, you dog."

"Only you and around five other women get to call me a dog."

"Only me and half the bloody kingdom, if your men are to be believed."

I laughed, and led her into my tent. I poured her wine. 

"I understand that you took good care of my sister and niece. Thank you for that."

"Of course! Gwyn is a delightful child, so sweet and clever. And Merwyd is so beautiful and smart. Hard to imagine that she's related to you."

I laughed, nearly spitting out my wine.

"I see why you get along so well with my sisters. That's exactly the sort of thing they'd say. So did you just drop by to see me?"

"No. I mean, I'm glad I got to see you, but I'm here to watch Gwyn and I thought I'd drop by a little early and see if the mighty king had a little time to spare."

"I always have time for you, Parla, and Sari. On that note, would you consider being Gwyn's nanny? Merwyd is an attentive mother, but she's going to be busy now that she's here, and I trust you, as I am sure she does. And there's another child on the way, as well."

Bartles looked rather surprised, and blushed adorably.

"I mean...I'd like that very much. I love being with Parla and Sari and the company...but I'm not much of a soldier, and I know they just kept me around to be nice."

"They kept you around because they love you like a daughter and you were good for morale. Speak to her and think about. I will too, if you want. Parla wants the best for you, so I'm sure she'll accept whatever you decide."

And that's how Bartles joined our little family, which proved important later.

Also, I'd just like to add, for the sake of posterity and my endlessly skeptical sisters: I never slept with her.


	19. New Blood

2 Months Later - Early-Spring

We'd marched down to Argyve, a city located on the east coast roughly halfway between Jorvik and Sondres. Besides being by the sea it was close to an easily navigable pass that was due to open any day now. We'd be marching soon, to finish this wasteful war. Everyone was confident that it would be over by summer.

Everyone but me.

I had become, much to my chagrin, a great deal like my father in one particular way. I was eager to march and I was a tyrannical jackass to anyone who stood in the way of my goal. I didn't have anyone killed, like my ancestors would have, or beaten, like my father would have, but I did shout a lot and probably made some new officers cry a bit. 

My sisters and mother did their best to distract and soothe me, for the benefit of all involved. This mainly involved a great deal of sex and some excursions away from the camp. Adewyn, however, wouldn't take my shit at all, and called me out frequently, which was part of why I loved her. She was set to give birth nearly any day. We were camped outside of the city but she was in much more comfortable quarters in the Mayor's palace. 

Truthfully, half of my anger and frustration stemmed from having to be in the camp rather than be with her. There were many strange and dangerous aspects to Pureblood pregnancy, and the women kept nearly all of them secret. I was afflicted with all manner of nightmares of what could go wrong. The only thing that I knew for certain was that in our case the child had grown faster than normal, which would probably lead to it being born a little earlier than eight months rather than nine. This was alarming to me but Adewyn was fairly relaxed about it, and insisted this was common and healthy. The child was supported not only by the food that Adewyn ate but by the natural magic channeled into to it by its parents.

"They're just a little impatient to leave and see the world," is all my mother would say. As the eldest Pureblood woman here, she was in charge of any proceedings surrounding the birth.

In any case, I had standing orders to send for me as soon as she went into labor. The camp could cope without me for a few days at least, especially now that I had Merwyd to appoint to matters of administration. 

It was early in the evening, and I was considering riding out the next day with my scouts, just to get out of the bloody camp. So, while I was worried at first when the messenger arrived with a request from Adewyn to see me, I welcomed the chance to visit with her. She had been less than welcoming lately, not precisely rude, but rather heavily intimating that it was not the Proper Time for her husband to see her. I believed it related to whatever rituals or preparations the women had been enacting. Had we been home in Marche Grodayne, they would have gone deep beneath the castle to the woman's sanctuary and she would not have returned for several days.

I entered her rooms at the Mayor's Palace, concerned but not in a rush. She was laying on her bed, reading, in a simple chemise. Gods she was beautiful. Her belly was undeniably large, her breasts swollen for the child. Her face was flushed and she sat up with some difficulty, smiling widely at me.

"Is everything all right?" I asked.

"It's...it's all fine, Finn. I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For not seeing you and then calling you out here when you must be tired already. I've missed you so much. You have no idea how many times I've wanted to tell your mother or Raisa or Merwyd to just fuck off and bring you to me so you could hold me. It's astonishing how much I've come to rely on you."

I smiled widely. It was uncommon for Adewyn to state her affections, no matter how deeply she felt them.

"Then no apologies are needed. I wanted to see you, just for a while, just to be sure you were fine. I'm having difficulty without you to argue with me and force me to think properly. And, of course, I feel a rather deep ache in my heart for you. Your sisters are rather tired of hearing me pine for you, I must confess."

She laughed and blushed a little.

"And...do you miss anything else about me?"

I liked where this was going, but I didn't want to get my hopes up.

"I miss your mouth, your fine breasts, your firm ass and, naturally, your quim that has never stopped being tight and perfect."

She smiled.

"Good. Because I need that amazing cock in me tonight."

I contained my excitement.

"Um. I want to, but is it all right for the baby?"

Adewyn laughed loudly.

"Never would I have thought that I'd see the day where Finn the quim-hound refuses his sister's pussy! Well, I understand it comes from your love for me and for our child, so I'll try not to be too hurt. Yes, its fine. Better than fine. The priestesses agreed that I should have at least one more fill of your seed, for the health of our baby."

"At least?" I said, hopefully.

She laughed again.

"Just get over here and fuck me, little brother."

I was a good soldier and intended to follow my orders to the letter. I took my shirt off and she made a little noise in her throat as I pulled my breaches off and my cock popped into sight. 

"Been a little too long?"

I intended it as a tease but she just looked at me and bit her lip, then nodded. She looked so serious. I went to her and leaned over her and kissed her full on her lips. She put her arms around my neck and gave me a hell of a response, darting her tongue in my mouth. I put my hands on her breasts, large and full. I was gentle because I knew that they were sensitive. I pinched her nipples and she made a very loud moan into my mouth. I felt a little wetness and pulled my hand back, instinctively.

"Hey, that felt good," Adewyn said, pouting.

"Sorry, I just didn't expect that," I said, laughing a little.

"Well, expect it! It's your damn baby, it's making me do all kinds of things! Apparently now I produce milk when I really need intimacy from my lover..."

She looked actually sad. This wasn't the way things normally went, but she was right, things weren't normal for her, and I could take at least half that blame.

"Hey. It's all right, I'm love you completely as you are now. Let's get your shift off so I can see you properly..."

"No!" she said, almost shouting, then more relaxed, "No, I'd like to keep it on, if that's all right. You can touch me anywhere you like. It's just...oh god this is embarrassing."

"You don't need to explain anything. We'll do things the way you need, all right?"

She smiled at me, this time, more relaxed.

"Would you be all right with taking me from behind?" She said, getting on her hands and knees. I positioned some pillows beneath her large belly. 

"Hmm," she said, "someone has been paying attention," she said appreciatively. Then she lifted her shift just far enough for me to have access to her sex and I lost capacity for speech for a moment.

Adewyn didn't look that different, mind you. Her belly was visible, and it was big and rather tight looking, as expected. It provoked feelings that were both warm and sexual in nature. Her ass was larger, not too much so, and I could still make out her musculature, as she was in excellent shape. And then there was her lovely pussy, which I hadn't seen in a while.

"Is...is everything all right?" Adewyn asked. She sounded very unsure, as though she thought I would find her repulsive.

I answered by cupping her sex with my hand, gently touching her clitoris. She gasped.

"Oh fuck, Finn. Fuck. That feels good. I'm not...oh fuck..."

"Everything seems lovely back here to me, dear sister," I said softly, "would you like me to taste you?"

"No. Oh god. I love that but I need your cock. I need your seed. I can't even explain it. Just being near you while you're hard is...oh fuck it's making me like a heartsick teenager. I'm so afraid you'll change your mind or...oh fuuuuuccckk...."

As she spoke, I lined my cock up with her sex and slowly slid into her. I thought that might be the best way to reassure her that I was very, very excited and willing to be with her like this. It felt...different, but so fucking good, so right.

"Finn, oh god...its too...oh"

I took her words as encouragement and began to stroke slowly and fully. I went deep but gentle, and I reached around and held her hips at first, and then her belly. She moaned at my touch, as if her whole body was now sensitive. For all of my reputation I'd certainly never made love to a woman this heavily pregnant, and obviously not one carrying my own child. I was incredibly aroused, but also felt that this was sacred, somehow. I picked up my pace, and went a little deeper. She moaned, oh gods did she moan. It was different from it had been, hungrier, needier, a little more desperate.

I increased in tempo and began to stroke her back and squeeze her ass a bit. She seemed to love this reminder that her brother truly enjoyed her body, and pushed back against me.

"Finn...I...oh gods not now..."

Then she made a different kind of noise, not one of pleasure, but of discomfort. It was a yelp, and it was sudden and loud, and I was terrified. I knew about magic. I knew about my sisters. And I certainly knew about fucking, but I knew very little about pregnant women and babies.

"Oh god, did I hurt you?"

She rolled over on to her side and looked at me, her eyes sad and teary.

"A little? No. It was just, really uncomfortable and my arms are tired and it was too deep. You didn't do anything wrong! The baby's fine. It's just me...your useless fucking sister who brings you out then teases you then makes you stop when you start to feel good. Goddammit."

"Hey," I said moving next to her, my cock, for once, forgotten, "it's all right. I'm not mad and I'm fine. You think I'm going to be upset at you because you have problems fucking me? When you're this close you having my baby? No, Adewyn. I love you and I'm glad to be here."

I stroked her hair and just looked at her. She was so beautiful in that moment.

"Why are you so good to me? I'm so fucking angry and difficult. And you just take care of me and put up with my bullshit. I feel so safe with you, Finn. I'm sorry. Will you hold me for a while?"

"Of course."

I got behind her, spooning her. I brought the blankets over both of us, and cuddled up to her, rubbing her belly gently, in what I hoped was reassuring. If this was all I could do to help, then this is what I could do. My hard cock would just have to suffer. 

We drifted off together, her making little noises occasionally and twitching her legs. I remembered a common incident when we were both children. I would wake up after a nightmare, scared, and go to her room and cuddle up to her like this and she would protect me. It was, of course, chaste, and simple comfort. She never once complained, or got angry. She held me sometimes too. She never told me to stop coming either. I did stop, after a few years.

Much later, about a week after I had turned eighteen, I woke up in the middle of the night to someone entering my bed. It was Adewyn. She was dressed in a shirt and breeches as she typically liked to sleep in, and looked scared. Perhaps she had been crying, it was hard to tell in the dark. I think she wanted to get into bed with me without me waking, the way I used to with her years before. I don't know why she came to me. I had always assumed she had been much closer to Tyr. Certainly they had been sleeping together by that point. 

I had done what she had done for me all those years. I just raised the blanket up so she could get under with me. I pulled her tightly to me, tried to ignore my erection, and held her. She cried a little, then fell asleep. She was gone in the morning and I never found out why she had been there. I think that was when I realized that we had something special between us. A trust maybe? A connection that didn't require words? I'm not a bard. I have no words for it.

Unlike that evening, I woke up to Adewyn's pregnant form grinding back against me. Her ass, still firm but soft, rubbing on my cock in a lovely way. She had managed to perfectly line up her crack with my cock and I was already hard and sliding up and down, thrusting naturally in response. I assumed she was doing it in her sleep. I nudged her gently.

"Adewyn...I think you're..." I groaned, unable to speak for a moment, realizing that the shift was no longer covering her and it was her naked skin rubbing against my needy cock.

"I know what I'm doing, Finn. I...I need you. Can you fuck me like this? Please?"

Her voice was small. Almost ashamed at having woken me. I adjusted myself, lining up my cock with her slit. I wouldn't be able to get very deep, but that was probably a good thing in her present condition.

"I'm going to be gentle, all right? Tell me to stop if you need to."

"I know, love. I'm yours. All right? I know...I know I've said it before but...yours is the only cock I want inside me. I love that you've filled me with a child, and I want you, right now."

I pushed inside her, slowly. Holy fuck it felt good. It was different, yet again, requiring very little effort on my part and none on hers, really. Normally she wouldn't have been game for that but tonight it was perfect. I began to move, in and out, reaching around and stroking her belly, then playing with her breasts and nipples. This time the wetness aroused me somehow, making me even more aware of my gorgeous older sister's fertility. I began to kiss her on her neck and whisper into her ear.

"Do you know how beautiful you are to me now? Do you know what seeing you like this, so full and yet so ready for me does to me?"

"Finn..."

"It makes me fucking wild inside. I've needed to be inside you so badly for weeks now. Your body is a temple that has been closed to me, and I cannot stand it."

"Oh, fuck, Finn, I'm cumming..."

And she did, quivering and shaking, but not heavily so, her moans and breathing intensified. If anything it lasted a long time, so long she was having trouble getting enough air. Once she was done, she relaxed again, and let me fuck her.

"Finn, this is so nice, so right. Oh...oh...I can't believe how much I love you right now. I was worried I...oh fuck...might resent you for making me this way, but I don't. If you told me to have ten children I'd do it. I'd...I'd do anything for the father of my child..."

This was far beyond anything that Adewyn had ever said to me. She was devoted to me and I knew it. I understood how she expressed it differently from my sisters or mother. I never expected her to be vocal about it. Finally I understood a deeper truth about her. This is what she needed and wanted. Yes, she was a warrior at heart, and fierce, but she loved me and needed me as much as I did her. She was truly a traditional Pureblood sister-wife, and was happier in that role than either Raisa or Merwyd would be.

From this point onward, in fact, although she never said it, she would refuse to be very far from me at any time, unless absolutely necessary. She'd always kept me in line but now she would be the guardian of our family's tradition. And she'd never stop being almost painfully fuckable.

I found myself going faster, realizing that my own need for her was overpowering me, although I kept it gentle, and shallow.

"Oh fuck, Adewyn. I'm going to cum, baby. You're so fucking beautiful like this....I can't hold out much longer."

"Finn...oh god, yes. Cum, baby. Fill me. I'm still yours. Oh fuck, fill me...ohhhhhh"

I came first, for the first time in years. I'd have felt very bad if she hadn't cum as well as my seed filled her. Again she didn't move much, and at first I only felt it in the way her quim gripped me and milked me, drawing all of my seed out of me. I kept thrusting, more and more coming out of me as her body shook, almost violently, and I heard her moans get louder and more intense. As I had begun to notice more and more recently, I felt the raw, primal magic of life pass from me to her. Was I helping her support our child with my masculine energy?

When I was done, Adewyn gave a deep, contented sigh.

"That was so...so nice, Finn. So good."

She leaned back into me, pulling my arm around her and between her breasts, and I realized that she had fallen asleep, her need sated, with me still inside her. I felt great love for her in that moment, and fear at how important she and our unborn child both were to me. Not for the first or the last time did I feel the weight of the responsibility of fatherhood, but each time that I did, I welcomed it further. Gods, Adewyn was making a responsible man out of me. 

Later, she woke up and we repeated the performance, this time, I held out so that she came first. She still sighed deeply when I came. She was very tired and sleepy at the end, and that must have been why she said what she did, for it didn't make any sense to me at the time.

"Finn. I'll tell you...don't worry...I love..."

* * *

It was a day or two after the message from Adewyn, it was fear and anticipation that I felt when I saw Raisa appear at my tent in the very early hours of the morning. I was with Merwyd that night and Gwyn was with Bartles who had been drafted as our war-nanny. I looked up at Raisa while my bedmate, Merwyd, stretched lazily, like a cat.

"Adewyn isn't giving birth yet. This isn't about her," Raisa said, and then looked meaningfully at Merwyd.

I was annoyed at first but bit back my comment. Raisa's face was solemn, revealing nothing. Merwyd wasn't shocked at her presence, as if she had anticipated this in some way. She simply put on a robe and went outside, touching Raisa on her shoulder in a reassuring way as she went. 

"Is there some secret that I'm not privy to?" I said, perhaps coming off more harshly than I intended.

"Yes," Raisa answered, rather defiantly, "but I wasn't privy to it until a few days ago myself and making you wait a little more because I had to confirm my fears didn't hurt you any, you jackass."

Well, that was new. Raisa was typically deferential to me and overly apologetic. I did the smart thing for once and decided to be a good husband.

"I'm sorry. Whatever it is must be important. We'll figure it out," I said, patting the spot beside me on the bed. 

She smiled a bit, finally, then sat next to me and leaned into me as she used to. I put my arm around her and waited, giving her time. I was glad that I wasn't more demanding of her when she finally got around to saying something.

"I'm pregnant," she started, which filled me with a measure of joy, but I withheld it, knowing that there must be a catch, "and I've been so for at least three months. Do you remember what happened in that time?"

"Well, we won the last battle, your sister returned, and...oh gods," I said, finally understanding.

"I pushed you out of the way of that lightning, and you healed me right there, saving my life. I don't regret the former and I appreciate the latter very much, so don't feel guilty, please. But the baby...the baby was washed in greater magic."

Her face clouded a bit, and I kissed her. She went on.

"The baby...once I learned I was with child, I went to a priestess of the goddess. She couldn't divine the child. I was terrified that it was dead already. After all that time trying to be a mother with you...but she soothed my fear and told me to come back again. I went back, yesterday."

"I would have gone with you, had you asked," I said, unable to hold my tongue any longer.

Raisa smiled warmly and touched my face.

"I know, love, but two nervous wrecks would have been no better than one. I decided to wait and see. The priestess could divine the child today. It is alive, and as far as she can tell, healthy. It...its also a Weirdling."

"Oh," I said, and then with a lack of thought that I am famous for, "is that all?"

Raisa stood up and looked down at me, her anger flashing in her beautiful eyes.

"What in the hells do you mean, 'Is that all?' Did you not hear what I said? The child is a Weirdling. Not a Pureblood!"

"Yes, I heard you. Did you truly think that I wouldn't love our child because of that?"

"Well, no, but...I know how our family deals with this kind of thing. They give the baby away to some gods forsaken temple. Or leave it out on a rock somewhere to die. Or..."

I laughed. It was not tactful and I feel very bad about it now, but I couldn't help it. Raisa hit my arm and I saw that she was about to launch on a tirade that would make Adewyn proud.

"Wait! Peace, wife!" I said desperately, and she stopped and looked at me, suspicious but patient, "I do not laugh at you or the idea of hurting our child. But we won't hurt this child, or send it away, or...well anything we're rumored to do. Those stories are just stories, at least in our family."

"Really?" Raisa said, with great skepticism. Our family was infamously cruel, even for Purebloods. Impaling had at one time been the common punishment for poaching.

"Yes, really. You can't have a Pureblood family without Weirdlings. And Purebloods breed true with them, so getting rid of them would be foolish, even for ruthless types like father."

It was true. Weirdlings were called such because of their rather strange appearance and extremely varied natural abilities, which often manifested completely out of their control. They were rare enough to have all manner of stories told about them. Some were even true. Your 'typical' Weirdling had hair of an unnatural color. Not even white like a Pureblood, or deep forest green like some Wyldbloods, but sky blues and bright greens and even royal purple. And their eyes were, without exception, entirely black, which everyone quite unfairly assumed made them sinister. Some were sinister of course, but that was by choice, not inclination. Their power would not, typically, be the same as a Pureblood, but they could still learn magic nearly as effectively. It was simply the social stigma of acknowledging them that was the issue.

I could see that Raisa still wasn't convinced, so I went on.

"You never met her, but grandmother was a Weirdling. She wore wigs and cloaks and such and used enchantments to hide her eyes, but around her rooms she went about naturally. She married and obviously had Pureblood children. She could also quite naturally float a bit and make people temporarily forget huge swathes of memory if she desired. She was great fun at gatherings. You can ask my mother if you don't believe me."

Raisa laughed now, and I joined her. This was truly joyous news. If the child had survived being struck by lightning and the kind of reckless healing that I had done, then they would surely be strong. The abilities could be trying at times, especially during childhood, but it didn't matter. I was going to be a father, yet again, and Raisa would finally have the child she so desperately wanted. Our child.

"Good. Well, I'm glad that's settled," Raisa said, visibly more relaxed, her small hand unconsciously resting protectively over her belly, "Now, when are you going to marry Merwyd?"

This was the very favorite topic of every woman in my family except Merwyd, although I cannot imagine she was unaware of the pressure the others were putting on me. I had yet to marry her, even in an informal manner as when I'd given the rings to Raisa and Adewyn. I went to the high priest of the Temple of the Law and had both of those confirmed, and it turned out that the marriage was legal and with full rights as soon as rings were placed on fingers. They were witnesses for each other, and they both agreed that Raisa had been selected as First Wife. So, if anything happened to me, there would be established regency and succession.

That being said, they all wondered when I would make Merwyd my third wife. I gave Raisa the same answer I always did.

"When the time is right, and that time is none of your business."

She then gave the same response that I always got.

"She's my sister, so it's my business."

But she was smiling. It was one part ritual, one part joke, and one part deadly serious reminder that sisters took care of one another and I best move quickly if I wanted to keep getting laid on the regular. But it wasn't the right time. Not yet. 

One might wonder how I could one the one hand say that I trusted and loved her but on the other refuse to marry her. For her part, Merwyd didn't complain or even bring it up. She understood I think. I was to be king and I had killed my brother, without remorse or forgiveness, and then taken his First straight to my bed. Marriage after this required a mourning period, and, preferably, some kind of formal religious declaration of expiation. The same priest who confirmed my other two marriages told me that king or no king, no such declaration would be forthcoming, at least until the high rites of summer. This was, he assured me, the appropriate amount of time, after which any good Pureblood would be expected to get back to breeding. 

He was, however, generally agreeable. I took care of two other legal matters of some importance. One, I adopted Gwyn, which everyone more or less agreed was a good idea, as it gave her a home, security, and made it much harder for anyone to use her as a pawn in a game of succession. Two, and known only to myself and her, I married my mother. That raised his eyebrows a bit but he acquiesced when I told him that there was every chance that she might bear my child in the future, and we didn't want any royal bastards running about, did we?

Yes I know its quite unusual, which is why I kept it secret. It was a bare minimum of legal protection for her, in case things went very badly and she had to escape to another land. It also gave her the right to sit as regent, if needed. Or any child of hers by me be eligible for the throne. I'd been doing a lot of thinking about the worst-case scenario lately.

Now to ensure that it didn't come to pass.

* * *

When I was woken up the following night at around the same time, I was ready to tall whoever it was where they could go and how fast. That was until I heard Raisa as she rather rudely poked me in the side. A messenger was standing just inside the tent, looking uncomfortable. I'd apparently slept through his arrival.

"She's having the baby! Get up!"

I got up, fell over, tangled in sheets, pulled on a shirt, ran outside into the night. I realized that I'd forgotten my boots, turned around, and Raisa handed them to me with an indulgent smile, a sheet wrapped around her lovely shoulders. I put them on and jumped on the horse, no cloak in the chill early morning. I cursed myself for not thinking to leave Caliban with Adewyn and just having her draw me to her. I wondered idly if she could do that over such a distance. I'd have to ask her for future reference. I was quite actively distracting myself with pointless thoughts because my horse could only gallop so fast.

"Dammit they'll have their first birthday by the time we get there!" I yelled at my steed.

Wulf simply whickered and kept up the very fast but safe speed. He was a good horse for me, because he knew when to ignore me for my own good. I stopped swearing at him and promised him fine oats later for the midnight ride. It wasn't his fault his rider was a jackass. I rode into the city, the guards opening the gates for me, well in advance of my arrival. I'd have to send them something too. Whiskey maybe. Northerners did like their whiskey.

After about a hundred years we arrived in front of the mayoral palace. I was ushered into the foyer and up the stairs to the rooms where Adewyn was staying.

Merwyd was there already, reading, and Gwyn lay sleeping on a couch nearby. I saw the closed door on the other side of the room open and my mother exited. I started to head towards the door and she held out her hand, palm towards me. Despite me being far larger than her, she didn't move and simply narrowed her eyes at my grunt of annoyance.

"No, Finn. This place isn't for you. You are here for when things are done."

"But I'm right here! She's only fifteen paces that way! I was there not two nights ago!" I said, nearly shouting. I probably sounded like an idiot for trying to oppose almost a thousand years of tradition. I started to move around her. She grabbed my arm.

"Don't make us have you removed, son."

I laughed. Mother did not. I looked at the guards who had followed me in. They looked uncomfortable with the situation, but I considered whether they would listen to me or my mother when it came down to it. I considered whether anyone besides myself would be foolish enough go against Pureblood women when a child was on the way. I stood down, admitting defeat, and put my hands behind my head, letting my anxiety manifest as something other than anger.

"Dammit, I should have just waited for Raisa," I said, feeling particularly stupid.

"Nonsense," Merwyd said, finally, "Raisa knew you would be this way and she'll be along soon. I just stayed here since we knew that Adewyn's time was approaching. And she may need more than one of us. In any case, Finn, Adewyn doubtless heard you. She'd be mad at you if you barged in there against her wishes, but knowing you are here will be a comfort to her."

I sighed and sat down next to Gwyn. This was the Merwyd I was more used to. Logical and sensible and a good counter to my emotional ways. Mother looked at me as though she didn't quite trust me to behave, but I had made up my mind. If I wasn't half-asleep I would never have tried to go in. 

I had accidentally woken Gwyn with my antics, and she sat up and looked at me with pity. 

"Do you want me to tell Auntie Adewyn anything for you?" she asked.

"If you would tell her that I love her and am thinking of her, I'd very much appreciate it."

Gwyn nodded, then went into Adewyn's room. No one tried to stop her.

"Is it all right for her to go in there alone?" I asked.

"Of course," Merwyd said, "She can help, too." 

Mother and her shared a small secret smile before Merwyd returned to her book. 

"Your father never would have tried something like that," mother said, but then surprisingly she favored me with a smile, "but then he never would have shown that much concern for his women, either. Adewyn is going to pay back your devotion with interest."

"She's done more than enough. All of you have."

So we waited. I heard Adewyn cry out once, then again. Gwyn came out of the room but didn't look particularly upset. Mother and Merwyd went in. The cries increased in volume and intensity. It occurred to me that while I had happened to be around to hear babies being born in inns and temples, I'd never been anywhere near a Pureblood birth. 

Adewyn's cries were much sharper than I would have expected. I didn't realize that I was tapping my knee nervously until Raisa took my hand. I hadn't noticed her enter. She had sat next to me, on the other side of Gwyn who had dozed off leaning against me.

"Don't you need to go in?"

"They'll call me if I'm needed. They have a priestess in there too. It will be all right."

I sighed. Adewyn screamed. It wasn't like the noises I'd heard women make before in the pains of birth. It was a lot closer to the enraged cries of a wounded berserker on the battlefield. I looked at Raisa, but she remained utterly calm. 

Adewyn cried out once more, much more softly. I wondered if it was over. Then the floor shock and the doors creaked from a hidden force as bright light flashed from underneath them. The air was thick and sticky with magic. Then silence.

I blinked in surprise but Raisa stood up, calmly.

"Come on," she said, "it's time to meet your child."

* * *

Adewyn looked flushed and more alive than I'd ever seen her. She also looked less tired than I expected, though that might just be because she was generally in excellent condition. She was holding a swaddled bundle with a tiny pink form inside of it. I felt the great responsibility of this new life settle on me, but it wasn't unwelcome. Rather, it aligned with my very being, provided context for who I was and who I had grown to be. 

"What shall we name him?" Adewyn asked.

"I like your original suggestion for a boy," I told her.

"Really? You didn't like it before."

"Well. I have a better understanding of father now. His name should be remembered."

Adewyn smiled.

"Good. His name is Artan."

I reached out and she reluctantly let me hold him, clearly unwilling to be separated despite her trust for me. 

"Don't worry, I'm not taking him out of the room. We can't do the rites for him properly until we're have a men's sanctuary to work with."

I beamed down at him as he looked up at me, quiet and thoughtful despite having undergone this trial with his mother. I felt resolution to be a good father, a present one, better than my own. It was a truly good day.


	20. The Journey and the Sacrifice

The day started well enough. I woke up and signed some papers in the headquarters while I read reports. Gwyn came in and we drank tea while she told me about her new tutors and the new magic she could do. Her power was far from being unlocked, but her natural control was truly prodigious. She typically called me Finn, as her mother did, and we did not stand much on ceremony.

She was very young, but intelligent enough that she would soon understand that I had killed her father. What impact that would have on her was anyone's guess. He had never been doting and often been cruel, but as I could attest, children are often irrationally attached to such men. That was for the future. In the now, she accepted me as a new friend, and that was good enough.

Adewyn insisted on working as soon as possible, although she didn't like constantly fobbing young Artan off onto wet-nurses and nannies, so he was often near by. She did her best to keep up with all the news and needs of the army, and even started to go out and drill them a few times a week. The troops started calling her the Ice Dragon again, and this secretly pleased her. She had all the signs of being an excellent Pureblood mother. I spent far more time than I expected simply holding the boy and speaking or reading to him, or bringing him to Adewyn for feeding at night. I was told over and over that a king wasn't supposed to do such things. I reminded people that a king who did what he wished was the most powerful sort of king, and also that we used to hang people here for backtalk. 

Raisa was barely starting to show, and chafed at being unable to be my bodyguard any more. She was now relegated to duties that exposed her to a minimum of danger. She still worked as my spymaster, a role that was becoming more important by the day. And, if anything, she shared my bed with more frequency as her libido picked up. There are few things more beautiful in their desire and demanding in their need than a pregnant Pureblood woman.

Merwyd was being the dutiful and penitent sister, by which I mean she was distributing alms in cities and villages all over the north, while being seen to attend services at many temples. This would, the high priest of the Temple of Law assured me, show that she would be a worthy wife for a new king. It also gave her something of a vacation and a chance to consider her own future. There was a part of me that worried that I was forcing her into new marriage straight from a bad one. She insisted this was untrue, but time to reflect was probably wise. For her part I knew that she was afraid that I was sending her away, even though I assured her that I was not. Ideally, I would have made the trip with her. The fact that she left Gwyn in my care after so many years of her being used as leverage against was a testament to her trust.

Ironically, mother was, that very day, to begin a trip to the continent. She knew many ancient families there, and not just Purebloods. She would set forth her case for King Finn and try and get their support, not in coin or men, but in acceptance of my claim. And not incidentally lobby to keep them from deciding to attack us while we were weak. She had been meeting with Adewyn to plan strategies and so she could say goodbye to her grandson before she left.

Despite what happened, I am daily grateful. I am grateful because Merwyd was away, Raisa was well outside the camp in a small manor house designated for her use, and Gwyn was sitting in the headquarters tent with me a significant distance away. She was just explaining to me the mechanics of conjuring a small ice spirit when the scream rang out. It was a man's scream, and not simply of pain. There was deep and dire fear in it. Without thought I called Caliban to me. She formed in my hand. I was prepared to run out to whatever awaited me when I remembered Gwyn. She looked up at me, sitting across from me in a tiny chair, confused and afraid.

"Gwyn, I have to go help. Do you remember Caliban?"

She nodded, looking wide eyed at the spear. 

"Good, because she's going to stay and protect you. She'll stay next to you and speak with you, and if you let her, she can use your magic to help. Do you understand?"

Gwyn nodded again. I'm sure it was very confusing but she did understand some things quite well. And I could see that she was excited to get to play with a new toy. Caliban expressed a degree of trepidation and disinterest in her new task, she was not the sort to settle down and care for a child, but I imparted upon her my feeling of protectiveness towards Gwyn. Caliban floated over, and I could see she was establishing contact with the girl by the way her face lit up. 

There were more screams outside. At least Gwyn would be protected. I ran out into the new world of madness that confronted us all.

* * *

As I was not there to see it start, I'm going to describe things as my sister-wife Adewyn saw them. She was there from the beginning to the end, and later would insist on me knowing everything that happened. I believe she expected me to pass judgement on her. The only thing I could say for sure was that I would have done no better, and perhaps worse.

Adewyn insisted on returning to the camp two weeks after giving birth. The priestess assured me that she would be fine for work as long as I minded my place and didn't try to fuck her for two months. As if I would be the one initiating sex. In any case we found a larger tent and put it right outside of mine. Someone even found a sort of collapsible basinet for Artan to use. It was quite homey. 

Adewyn was speaking outside to Kyrza, who by now was a General in her own right, trusted with all of our cavalry. Mother was inside, playing and talking to Artan, who had taken a liking to her already. Kyrza looked up, and shouted: "What the fucking hell is that?"

It was an appropriate question. It flew but it was most definitely neither bird nor wyvern. Whatever it was, had arms and legs, but they were greatly elongated, as were its hands and feet. It had a torso, but it too was distended and stretched in strange ways. And its head, oblong and searching, was too large for its frame. It's huge wings combined aspects of both a bat and an insect. In the light of the sun not much else could be made out save that its black skin shone like the carapace of a beetle.

Adewyn, thinking fast, threw a gout of fire at it. It ignored it, letting it wash over its glossy, unnatural skin, and as if responding to her worst fears, it headed directly for the tent where mother and Artan were. As it grew closer, she could see that it had no visible eyes, ears, or nose, merely a jaw like a predatory fish, but filled with many needle sharp teeth. It had six fingers and toes on each hand and foot, and each was tipped with a razor sharp transparent claw. It dove for the tent, but seemed to understand that it wouldn't support its weight, and instead of diving into it, shredded the roof as it passed.

Adewyn couldn't be sure, but she said it moved almost with the speed of a diving falcon. The furrow in the roof of the tent was easily twice the height of a man, and the hole was widened as part of the side collapsed. With little other choice, Adewyn ran inside it to get her sword. 

Mother, hearing the first shout and feeling the tingle of nearby magic, had picked up Artan and looked to Adewyn for instruction. Adewyn, being who she is, ordered my mother behind her and considered her options. Staying in the tent didn't truly offer protection, but at least there was some kind of cover. So she decided to remain there for the moment. The scream of a soldier from outside seemed to indicate it was the correct decision. She told mother that if the thing came in that she should take Artan and bolt for the headquarters tent, where I was. Mother was probably too afraid to argue.

Unfortunately, what the thing actually wanted was inside the tent. In a matter of seconds it crashed down through the hole it had cut in the roof. Its left hand was red with fresh blood, and it gave a low huff like a hunting hound. It reached out for mother as she dashed past it for the door, carrying my boy, but Adewyn was fast with her blade. Far faster than I would have been. It lost four of its fingers and part of a fifth. To her dismay, this did not seem to concern it over much. 

Rather than turn and face her as she hoped, it went on all fours like a great cat and loped out the flap after mother, leaving droplets of its black ichor behind it. That was when the second scream rang out, terrible and pained. Adewyn followed and saw that the thing had caught up with mother and had her right hand in its jaws, and it was worrying at her terribly. She had realized it was overtaking her and turned to try to cast a spell, but it latched on to her with great speed, its needle-like teeth impaling her flesh and holding her as tightly as a bear-trap. 

Mother still held Artan in her left arm, protectively. This is when I showed up, running. I knew what it was, instinctively. I drew up ready to hit it with lightning, although I had no idea if it would be effective, and I realized suddenly that it wouldn't be of much use unless I wanted to hurt my mother and my child as well. 

It made a mistake then, at least from our perspective. It carefully seized mother by the upper shoulder with its left hand, and then made a guttural bellow in my general direction. I was within twenty paces and could smell the rot of its breath. It crouched and all at once I realized that it was going to fly off, carrying my mother and child with it. I felt powerless.

Adewyn had taught me to wait for my opportunity, and she rewarded my patience. As the thing began its jump into the air, it stretched its arm out wide, and she had a clean attack on it, away form my mother and my son. This time she cleanly severed its forearm in one beautiful maneuver. Black, viscous blood spilled on the clean dirt of the camp.

It had already started its ascent and shrieked. It could have been in pain but I think that it was the frustration of a hunting beast. As it got around ten paces off of the ground, I released my lightning, which passed through it, tearing and scorching its flesh, opening it up and cauterizing itself. Love for my mother, child, and Adewyn were foremost in my mind at that moment, and I think that was part of why it worked. Later I would learn that the type of emotions you felt upon releasing such magic could purify it, but at the moment I was simply grateful.

The creature fell, limply, to the earth dead. Adewyn attended to my mother and Artan. As much as I wished to go to her, I searched the sky first to see if the thing had friends. I saw nothing but the deceptive blue sky of northern spring. I was offended that such beauty had been corrupted.

"Artan, get over here!" Adewyn shouted. 

I ran to my mother's side. Adewyn and pulled the things hand off of her, and it lay on the ground, opening and closing as if still attached. Mother was pale and her arm had ghastly wounds on it, but only from the bite. It had, for some reason, been very careful with its hand. There was no bleeding however, and that concerned me, as it reminded me of the wound I had received on my side months earlier. Mother was pale and gasping.

"Send for a priest and Raisa!" Adewyn shouted at Kyrza. While she did so she took Artan from my mother's shaking grasp. He was unharmed and thankfully didn't even have a drop of that thing's awful blood on him. He was scared, but not crying.

I picked mother up, as carefully as I could. I carried her to my tent, which was only about twenty feet away. After laying her down, her eyes rolled back in her head and she screamed in pain, again. It tore at me. Her left arm held my shoulder tightly. I was about to begin to heal her enough to keep her until the priests arrived when I noticed it

I could see her veins change before me. From the point of the injury they turned colors and the malignancy crawled up her arm with sickening swiftness, perhaps an inch every ten-seconds. They did not even turn the irritated red of those with venoms or infection, but the black of rot. Mother began to convulse. I made the decision as Adewyn entered the tent, having given Artan to Kyrza for the moment.

"Hold her. Lay across her body if you must," I said, with confidence that I did not feel. Adewyn didn't argue, bless her, she simply did so. Once she had her as secured as she could, I summoned fire. It was both intense and focused, more so than I'd ever done before. I collapsed it into a blade and brought it down right below mothers elbow. Her forearm fell away, and mother screamed one last time, before mercifully losing consciousness. I then did some brutal and direct battlefield healing to keep her from dying from the trauma of the wound.

"May mother forgive me when she wakes," I said, despairing, "If she wakes." 

"You did right, Finn," Adewyn said, her hand on my shoulder, "you more than anyone knew the dangers, and her wound was much worse than yours was. I saw the change in her arm as plainly as you did."

I hoped that she was right and I hadn't just made things worse.

All this happened in perhaps two minutes.

* * *

The old healer, Octavius, improved vastly on my simple and direct attempt to heal her, only afterward cursing my foolish decision to amputate with magic. I believe that he would have been right, for any normal injury from blade or beast, and felt immense guilt. His novice apprentice pointed out to both of us, right then, that what remained of mother's amputated arm had dissolved completely as if with an alchemist's acid.

The priest and I exchanged glances. He didn't apologize and I didn't want him to. I gambled and happened to be right this time. 

Raisa arrived shortly thereafter and used her peculiar skills to divine mother's health. She found no trace of the kind of poison that had infected me in her body, thank the gods, but found much of it on the thing's unnatural teeth. 

"What is this?" Adewyn asked no one in particular, now holding Artan again. She was peering down at the demon. Raisa had gone to be with Gwyn and make sure that she wasn't overly scared.

"This is the new face of the war, wife, and what I have been dreading. Bayrd has become a diabolist, and will no longer fear the clean arts of our magic. Perhaps he doesn't have to."

"I can stay with her tonight," Adewyn offered, anticipating that I would insist on being near my mother.

"No," I said, firmly and sadly, "take our son and get into the city, somewhere secure with a solid roof. I'll send Raisa and Gwyn away later to somewhere similar."

"Wouldn't it be safer to be together in case they try for Artan again?" Adewyn asked, quite reasonably.

I shook my head.

"They weren't after him. Bayrd may not even know you were pregnant, and its too soon for him to know you've given birth. This is still about Bayrd's sick idea of love. Although I imagine he instructed his pet to bring her back unharmed, I'm sure that mother was the intended target. Nowhere near her is safe right now."

"All right love. I'll get our son somewhere safe. Do what you have to, but don't worry about us. I will never let harm come to him."

I stood and kissed her, as deeply as I could, given the urgency we both felt. For a moment we leaned into one another, our foreheads touching, deeply wanting more contact. Then she kissed me on the head and left.

It would be a long night, but this time I'd have Caliban with me, and I suspected that she knew more about slaying demons than any of the rest of us combined. Together we settled in to find out if we held vigil for life or death. Eventually, inevitably, I slept.

==============================================  
INTERLUDE: THE JOURNEY  
==============================================

I dreamed, but it was not a dream. Nor was it a vision, although it was true. It was a memory, stifled by poison, suppressed by exposure to things I did not truly understand.

Now, in my moment of desperation, it came back to me. Only then did I truly understood what was at stake.

I remembered my Journey.

* * *

The cavern stretched out before me, pitching downward as it opened up, the shadows full of dark promises. A stream of water rolled into the mouth of it, fed by the rain and washing down past the foundations of the castle before descending deep beyond my lantern's light. For some reason, not knowing the final destination of the water unsettled me. I laughed briefly at my own cowardice, then began my descent.

It was a rough walk. Certainly the angle wasn't steep enough to call it climbing, but the uneven ground combined with the shadows and downward trend led to me tripping a great deal and even falling hard once on my shoulder. Fortunately only my pride took any real injury, although my forehead was bleeding slightly. More importantly, the lantern was uncracked. 

I continued down for what seemed like an hour but in truth could have been no more than fifteen minutes. The cavern yawed left and right, but the angle stayed steady. As I continued there seemed to be a fog in the air, perhaps from the moisture of the stream. I convinced myself that the whispering I heard was just the water moving over rocks, but in my heart I did not believe it. 

After another hour had passed of moving steadily down, I began to become bored. I cannot rightly tell you why. There were plenty of sensations, and it seemed like the shadows were alive here, flickering and jumping. When I shined light into them, I saw nothing alive, but the stone of the wall had peculiar circular deformations which made it look skulls of various sizes piled high upon one another. I considered turning back.

Suddenly, I wretched, bringing up mostly water and a little bread that I had eaten earlier. I hadn't felt ill at all before I found myself kneeling and heaving over and over, until nothing more remained. Had I been poisoned this morning? Was the duke trying to kill me?

"Easy, friend. You aren't doing so well. Its all right. You probably won't die."

He sat on what looked to be a stalagmite that had been sawed cleanly off a few feet from the floor, creating a kind of stool. He looked to be somewhere between fifty and seventy years of age, with a bald head and a long but well-trimmed beard. He was nude save for a simple cloth for modesty, and covered in thick grey rock dust. There were other such stools near him and I sat, almost fell really, onto one. I was so ill that I didn't even find his presence here unsettling. I just let my head hang between my legs and hoped that this awful sensation would pass. He spoke and I listened.

"The vapors affect all differently, but the greater your understanding of hypergeometric dark energy patterns, the worse it is."

I looked at him and he must have seen my confusion.

"Ah, I'm sorry. I meant to say the greater your magical power the worse it is," he said with a hint of condescension, although his smile was genuinely warm.

"Are you the gentleman that I'm supposed to be seeing? Or are you a figment of my poisoned mind?"

He smiled more widely.

"What an excellent question! I honestly can't be certain what your eyes are presenting to you now. I am not precisely human and certainly not a man. The poisonous air prevents you from seeing the worst of me, and allows us to communicate meaningfully without having the unfortunate side effect of driving you mad."

As I watched, "he" flickered out and a older woman, handsome in her way, flickered in. The voice stayed largely the same, however.

"What are you?"

"I'm a platonic ideal of duty, faith, and love. A cherubic thought-form left here to mind the gate with flaming sword, as it were," she said, then sighed, "Of course, you have no idea of who Plato was or what a cherubim is, so I'm just being a pretentious old maid. I'm a guardian, left here by the first Purebloods to prevent anything from following."

"From following who?"

"Humanity. This is where you, in the general sense, came from. There are other gates as well, but here is where thousands if not millions fled from the dying Old World and the demonic hordes that had overrun it. Later the Karrash would discover them and invade. After that the Purebloods decided that it would be wise to seal them and summon guardians from the Old World. I serve that purpose here."

"Did...did you see my brother? My uncle?"

She nodded, sadly. 

"I did. And your father before them. And others before that. All heard my lesson, but few learned it."

"What is your lesson?" 

I felt ill but dimly, in the back of my mind, part of me was screaming that this was important. Not just to me, or the kingdom, but all of the kingdoms and far-stretched communities of man. I decided to listen to that part, even if I couldn't precisely comprehend what I was being told.

"It is truly quite simple. You are not a master of anything. You are a servant. So it is with all of those of your people who have been modified and improved by their new home: the Purebloods, Wyldbloods, Weirdlings, Sangrids, and all the rest. You happen to rule, but only because circumstances dictate it to be necessary. Soon, by my reckoning, the things which drove the Karrash through the gates will open them wide again. I will be no match for them. They will push through, and if humanity is not prepared and unified..." she simply let the sentence die, as if the rest was foregone.

"Forgive my ignorance, elder, but I don't know what they truly are or what they will do. And what do you mean by 'soon'?"

She sighed again, then stood. When she did so, her form flowed and shifted. I saw a great dracon with many wings. I saw a giant with three eyes and then only one. I saw a shining female form, mighty and terrible and sad. Then there was just an old woman again.

"The armies of Belial do not regard Humanity as an equal, or even as an enemy, but only as a resource. They come from a failed creation. A place abandoned by the Good. They are as locusts, consuming, corrupting, and finally leaving as the fabric of creation rots and fails. They will ruin this world too, but first they will take all of humanity as their slaves. They will sate their lusts and hungers upon them. Your sisters and mother and children included. And they could come tomorrow or in two centuries. I have no way to know for certain. Your task, your only task, is to hold and protect the land you rule. To keep your armies ready and your people fed. To be prepared. All other considerations, including your petty politics and hatreds, are secondary."

Well. This was certainly sobering, even if it turned out to just be a hallucination. I was feeling worse, as though my core being was melting into the earth. I cannot rightly describe it now. But I rose to leave, then thought better of it for a moment.

"I will do my best, but petty politics and hatreds are trying to kill me. What can I do to prevent this? Or fight it?"

She held up her hand.

"Be still. I am not done with my lesson. I am going to impart knowledge upon you, vital to fighting the dangers which you and your subjects must face. When you need to, you will recall the knowledge of wards which can protect your allies and exercises by which any mage may purify their magic with positive emotion, making it close enough to the stuff of creation to be as toxic to the Armies of Belial as their venom is to us. If the magus is powerful enough, lightning or earth can work even without such purification, for men and women respectively."

She touched my forehead, and her finger felt cool, soothing. I felt...something...flowing into me. Diagrams, explanations, memories of a teacher in a faraway time and place, expressing instructions to eager pupils. Weeks if not months of knowledge forced itself into my mind, jarring me beyond the simple illness of the vapors. When it was done I understood how to draw the ward and empower it so that it was more than just a picture and I had a nearly instinctive comprehension of the process of filtering and purifying magical energy as it ran through my being, I sat back down. It took me a few moments before I could form thought and words again.

One further question came to me, unbidden.

"How did my relatives react to this news?"

She laughed, clearly delighted.

"No one has ever asked me that question. Let's see. Your father said little but I could feel his sincerity when he said he would serve the greater Good. I also felt his cruelty, but perhaps it was necessary. Your brother...did not understand, although he tried. The vapors took him and he failed his Journey. I returned him to the surface where hopefully you have confined him somewhere that he cannot harm others or himself. Your uncle...denied me and believed me all at once. He is crafty, so he believed that he could fool or deal with the demons of the Sitra Ahra. You cannot trick that which is older than cunning or bargain with that which is made of hunger. If Bayrd rules, I fear that he will try to summon that which I hold back."

"Fuck," I said, succinctly.

She laughed again, but her voice was younger now, and aristocratic, and her form shifted to something truly beautiful and incomprehensible.

"Well said. All is not lost. I do not know the future. After all, I did not predict the fall of my home. I only know what is most likely. So I task you with ruling, fairly and well. Much of this you will forget, but it will come to you when needed. Go now, and tell your people that you have returned with the hope of the light and the wisdom of the dark. You will not forget these words, ever."

I remembered nothing after that.


	21. Demons

"I need you to get Merwyd back here as soon as possible," I instructed Raisa, "and also at least one high priestess or priest from all the major temples, and one representative from all the arcane guilds in the north. We need to propagate this as soon as possible. And Merwyd will be able to simplify and explain this better than I could once she sees it."

Before us on the table at headquarters were a few sheets of parchment. When I woke I had written down everything that I could now remember, including diagrams of the wards, and the descriptions of the mental exercises needed to purify our magic before we used it on the Armies of Belial. There was no time for delay.

"I sent for Merwyd yesterday," Raisa said, proving her worth yet again, "If I can see those documents, I will have someone copy them and send another rider with them so she can study it before she even arrives."

"Good thinking. And make some more copies too. We're going to need trusted scribes to get this out everywhere. We can't let this stay a secret, from anyone."

I endured questions from my generals and officers, skeptical of my vision but respectful. As would be expected, they noted that my sisters who were present didn't question anything that I said. The true secret of Pureblood family is that one man may lead, but if he doesn't have the trust of the rest, he is nothing. Raisa and Adewyn commanded respect for their contributions, as well as their abilities to curb my worse instincts and demand that I be able to justify my decisions. To some their silence may not mean much, but to the people who served us and the Kingdom of Cymru, it meant a great deal.

In any case, we made sure that anyone who wished had the opportunity to see the corpse of the creature that had...mutiliated my mother the previous day. It was so unnatural that it didn't even rot properly, instead remaining fresh. I debated whether or not to destroy it, but Raisa pointed out that the remains might be useful to bringing skeptics over to my side.

After this meeting, I returned to my tent, and my mother's side. I took a deep breath before entering, unsure as to what I would find. To my joy, I found a rather flustered Octavius getting interrogated by my mother, who had apparently woken while I was away. 

"When can I be expected to have recovered fully?"

"Well, uh, my lady, I don't know exactly..."

"Then take a guess!" she nearly shouted at the poor man, "I simply cannot be bound to my bed while there is so much to do."

"Yes, you can," I interrupted, "and perhaps you should have some patience for the man who saved your life."

The old man nodded with gratitude to me before he made his escape. I knew that he would be back later and he had left his novice to watch her throughout the day. He too left to wait outside my tent, giving us privacy. My mother tried to look at me sternly, but failed, and smiled broadly as I sat with her on the bed, holding her remaining hand.

"I thought you were the man who saved my life," she said with some pride, "or so the priest just got done telling me."

"Adewyn saved you first, then me, then him. After my...brutal methods, you were in terrible shape. He made sure that you didn't die because of it. I'm sorry for hurting you and I'm sorry for not being here when you woke."

She grew serious, and squeezed my hand.

"Don't you dare hold yourself responsible. We both know who did this and why you did what you did. It was shocking to wake up like this, but they were prepared for that. And besides...it...it isn't so bad. Compared to the alternative."

Gods. She was always like this.

"I'm no longer a child. It's time to start treating me as your husband. I won't tolerate this behavior."

She looked shocked.

"What behavior?"

"Even now you act like you need to be strong for me. I'm your husband. It is time for you to accept this, and let yourself be true with me. It has taken me over five years, but I understand vulnerability and how necessary it is to share it with those you love. Let me support you for once."

"No," she started, but then the tears welled up in her eyes. "you don't have time for this kind of nonsense."

"Your pain isn't nonsense. I always have time for it. Always."

The walls almost fell and the dam nearly broke. She sobbed, before seizing hold of herself.

"Dammit, Finn. I don't want...dammit! Why are you like this? Why can't you just leave well enough alone?"

"Because it isn't right to demand that you be strong alone, when all the rest of us depend on your strength. Lean on us now love."

"I hate this. I hate it. My arm is gone, Finn. The fucking bastard tried to take me and took it instead. And he nearly killled my grandson. Your son! Your only child! And Adewyn saved him and that should be enough. But I'm here, in this fucking bed feeling sorry for myself. Is that what you want to hear? Does it make you feel better?"

I looked at her impassively, but my eyes held only compassion for her. I waited.

"This is idiocy. You're a king. The king! And here you are spending time coddling me! A grown woman! Less than that! I'm not even going to be able to hold my grandson now!"

"You did a very good job of holding him when something was trying to kill you. I think you'll do fine when things are calm."

"Of course, you would say that. But you know as well as I do that nothing is the same now. If you were honest you'd release me. We both know that I'm not what you want."

"Why?"

"Because I'm mutiliated! Incomplete! Gods, why are you making this so...dammit!"

Then, finally, when she saw I wasn't leaving, or rising to the bait, her walls collapsed. She broke down in great sobs. I lifted her head and moved her pillow so I could sit closer to her, and she immediately curled her upper body into my lap. I stroked her hair, careful not to touch her wound, although I knew that the priest would keep her well drugged for any remaining pain. 

As we sat, I drew her blanket around her against the morning chill. I stayed with her until she fell into fitful sleep, and then I watched her for a long time.

"I love you," I said softly, "and you belong to me, wife. I will not discard you. I will make sure that he never gets another chance to do this to you. And then I'll kill him."

After a while, I stood up, carefully placing her head back on the pillow. She moaned a little, in pain or fear, but stayed asleep. I had work to do in and around my tent. I didn't care if she saw it, it wouldn't be a secret from her, but I didn't want to wake her if I could avoid it. 

I worked with a small jar of paint, on the tent floor as well as immediately outside of it. I wasn't the only one doing this today, but I felt that this was the most likely spot, so I wanted it to be perfect. When I was done, I considered my work, and smiled grimly. 

Now, to wait.

* * *

Despite mother's protestations, I spent a great deal of time with her. It wasn't much of a burden to be honest. I could make decisions from her side as well as at headquarters. I received regular missives from Adewyn, who had Artan, and Raisa, who was caring for Gwyn, multiple times each day. Simple checkups to keep me from worrying. I responded with the same.

The old priest visited mother multiple times per day, each time applying more of his healing magic. This was more than normal, but I knew that mother was pushing him to do so. I had tried to talk her out of it due to the extra pain and discomfort it would cause, but she ignored me. The upside was that she had easily done months worth of healing in a matter of days, although I had to make her eat around six meals a day as her body required extra sustenance. She also slept quite a bit more than usual.

Bayrd didn't try again until the third day. I was eager for Merwyd's return, and I knew that if she travelled at speed as she was likely to do, she should be arriving that day in the afternoon or evening. I needed her to review my notes and make sure they didn't need any corrections. I desperately wanted her to check my personal work as well as that which had been done in the camp and city.

Alas, there would be no chance for that.

"You don't have to be here," mother said to me that morning. It was an argument we'd had off and on for days now. At this point, we were doing it mostly for form. She wasn't picking a fight any more, but merely making sure that I didn't need to be doing something else.

"I know, but someone has to watch out for you, and everyone else is pregnant, was just pregnant, or is still quite far away. And I'm impatient," I said, signing a document allowing for increased pay for my Sergeants. 

"Impatient for what?" mother asked, smiling.

"Impatient for you to be well enough to be fucked."

"Oh," she laughed, "my young suitor is truly ardent today. I think I might be up for a little pleasure later, if you want."

I very much did, but right then we both heard a horn sounding. It was loud, and slightly far away. She knew something was wrong as I stood up and casually called Caliban to me. The color, only recently returned to her face, drained away.

"Oh gods...is it them again?" she asked. It pained me to see such fear in her face but it pleased me that she wasn't hiding it from me.

"Yes, but we're ready this time," I said, smiling like a wolf. 

"What do you mean?"

"A lot happened while you've been lazing about, mother. I'll explain it once I'm done with this."

A loud thump from outside confirmed my suspicions. Mother sat up and looked afraid, but I smiled at her reassuringly, and walked outside.

"There you are. And you brought a friend this time."

There was one twitching on the ground and one desperately trying to fly back the way it came, unable to find purchase in our fine, pure sky, although it was still flying. Both looked very much like the first winged thing that had attacked us, although one had horns and another had a tail. 

Octavius had wasted no time, coming out from an adjacent tent as soon as he heard the horn. He had been the very first that I had taught the procedures of warding and purification to. He approached the twitching body on the ground and spoke a word. Flames projected from his wrinkled hands, not yellow and red, but white and blue. Unlike Adewyn's attempts, the thing caught fire like it was covered in lantern oil and made of paper. It burned, screaming, then died fast and crumpled away. The old man smiled at his work. He was a healer by heart, and wise, and knew that destroying any member of Belial's army healed the world at least a little.

I drew in the magic of air and fire, and let it pass through my heart, sifting out that which was not needed, weaving in my own thoughts. This time it was love of little Artan, which was amongst the purest that I knew. I loosed lightning on the clumsy thing in the air. It had been effective on the first attacker, but this time was different. This time it killed it instantly, and the thing disintegrated to ash before it even it the ground.

"Well," the old man said, "I'd say that worked."

I inspected the tracery of the ward that I hd painted a few days ago. It still glowed an eerie blue for a moment, before the energies contained within returned to a latent state. It was still both intact and complete and its effect had been immediate enough to pull one of them down from the sky. The other one must have just brushed against it to still have been airborne. 

"Yes," I agreed, "would you mind letting the others know to finish the greater wards around the camp's exterior?"

"With pleasure, lad. And the temples and gates of the city should be done by now. They'll be working on the walls today."

I supposed that I should have taken offense to his familiarity, but since he had saved my mother's life and then killed a demon I decided that he could call me anything he wanted. I went back inside and smiled. Mother looked at me, and I could see that she was relieved.

"What happened? I heard thunder and felt a great deal of magic."

"We had guests, but they're gone. Once you're on your feet, I'll show you how to kill them."

Her smile lit up the room, and she stood up smoothly and with the grace that I was accustomed to seeing before the attack. It wasn't the first time but it was the strongest she'd seemed since her injury. 

"Do you still truly find me appealing? I am no longer whole. I can feel my right arm...but its gone. I'm not even sure I will be able to write again or ride a horse or even hold my grandchild, much less pleasure you properly."

"Don't pretend you aren't still beautiful, or that you haven't been thinking of ways to do all of those things with your left hand. I brought you paper and quill so you can start practicing your writing, you hate riding horses, and we've already seen that you can hold my son just fine. As for pleasuring me...there are many ways in which that might be accomplished..."

I was very aware of the shift she wore, and how it barely extended halfway down her thigh. She caught me looking and walked over to me, her eyes hungry. I pulled her to me with my left arm, gently. With her remaining hand she took my right and guided it up under her shift to her sex. Her eyes closed and she bit her lip as my fingers deftly found the places she wanted to be touched. She moaned.

"Gods, mother, you're so wet," I said, my breath already ragged. 

"A woman should always be ready to reward her man when he protects her, shouldn't she?" she asked me huskily, then gasped as one of my fingers entered her.

"I agree. I think you've had enough rest. And this feels ready for my seed," I said, gently pumping my digit inside her with one hand as I supported her with my other under her lovely soft ass. Her legs were suddenly a bit wobbly and she leaned into me, rocking and grinding against my palm. She was so aroused that she was barely able to speak in more than a throaty whisper.

"I'll take as much as you have to give. I haven't had Bride's Bane in weeks now."

"Are you truly ready for me to lay with you? If you're in pain then I am more than happy just to pleasure you..."

"Gods, Finn, you'll have to force me away if you don't want to fuck me now. You've gotten your mother wet and ready for you, and you should take responsibility for what you've done. I need your cock, love," she said, drawing out the word 'need,' until it became something dirty and wonderful, promising all manner of delights.

"How much do you need it?" I asked, with a degree of playfulness. 

"Oh fuck, Finn. Please. Please let you mother take care of you. Please remind me that I'm beautiful. I don't feel like it. I feel ugly and worn and old and useless. Please. I'll be so good for you."

She sat back on the bed and pulled her shift up over her waist clumsily, exposing her wet quim and white thatch. She was so aroused that I could smell her from where I was, a most enticing perfume. She looked up at me, eyes full of arousal but also unsure, waiting for my approval, for my response. She never needed it from me before, but I was her only man now, and she was injured, more in spirit than in body. 

I moved over her, looming. She reached up with her left hand and fumbled a bit, but opened my belt and unbuttoned my trousers. She looked excited as a child opening her solstice gifts. As she did so I removed my shirt, but I let her pull my pants down. When my cock came into sight, she took in her delicate fingers and then leaned into it, nuzzling it against her cheek before kissing it sensually. 

"It's absolutely shameful how much I love my son's cock," mother said to no-one in particular, "I cannot get enough of it. It's flavor haunts me in my dreams, I feel a phantom of its hardness when I pleasure myself, it is perfect for my quim. Perfect to fill me and stretch me almost until I am in pain. Won't you use it on me? Please, love."

She punctuated her begging by taking me into her mouth and sucking me down deep, down into her throat, no gagging, just wonderful moaning as she enjoyed the sensation of me being inside her. I groaned in response. Spurred on by my noises of pleasure she outdid herself, moving up and down on my cock with her mouth, faster and faster, taking me deep into her throat with each stroke, barely giving herself time to even take a breath. She was my perfect mother and my perfect slut.

"Gods, mother, you are so adept at pleasuring me. But no." I pushed her off of my cock, and she looked at me sadly, as if I had rejected her and left her standing alone at the ball. I smiled reassuringly.

"I'm not going to spend my seed there, when it might find more fertile ground elsewhere," I said, gently pushing her unto her back and pushing her shift up over her breasts. I lowered my head to her nipples and sucked on each. They were hard and small and my hands explored them, just on the gentle side of harsh. She moaned and gasped and I realized that she couldn't speak. Without thinking she tried to pull me to her with her right hand but her arm only partially encicrled me. She didn't seem to have caused herself any pain, so I answered her need and rose up to her, placing the head of my cock at her entrance.

She looked me in the eyes and placed her left hand on my chest, stopping me.

"This is sacred, what we're doing now. The goddess was injured and her lover killed, in the old stories. So her son came to her and fucked her full with a child, and healed her with new life, so she called him her husband and master. That's what I want. I want your child. I want it and I want others to see me and know that I carry the fruit of my son's seed. I want you to use me while I carry it, suckling at my fuller breasts and fucking me until I cum hard. I want that so very much. Heal me with your seed, love."

I had no more power to resist her, and I pushed inside her. She cried out, and I filled her swiftly and easily, as she knew I would. I felt perfect and home inside her, but I could not delay. It took every bit of self-control to fuck her gently, slowly, and not roughly. I know that she would not have complained, and would have taken any bruises that I gave her as signs of love, but I did not want this. I wanted her to be healed.

"Finn, oh fuck, Finn... I feel it, building..."

Her first orgasm snuck up on her. I drew it out, watching it wash over her, make her whole body quiver and her cries become urgent. As it wore down I sped up again, and kissed her upon her neck and behind her ear. I was experienced with pleasuring her as any man alive, but that day I had unerring instinct.

"Finnnnnn!" she cried out, as she came, again and again, her body shaking beneath me. She was unable to speak or move as I fucked her. I felt her quim milking my cock, trying to draw my cum out by force. I felt my own need overpower me, and in that moment, I felt closer to her than I had ever felt before. 

I came, filling her. I felt so much come out of me. I felt like life passed from me to her. I felt like I was fading away, and I welcomed it. For a moment, I felt what was masculine in me mix with what was feminine in her, joining and mixing from two to one and then back into two. Although you may not believe me, I knew then that she would bear me twins.

I lay, spent, upon her, my head resting on her breast, her hand running through my hair, both us breathing hard. I felt very alone for a moment, understanding what must come soon.

"Tell me you love me, mother."

"I do love you, Finn. Always. I love you as son, as husband, and as protector. No other man will ever have me again."

We said nothing but we both knew that her spirit had begun to heal. I slept and she watched over me. It was as it should have been.

* * *

A messenger bore me the letter the next day. He had come through the pass without any problems, and was truly barely more than a boy. I could see that he was afraid, hungry, and tired, so I sent him away to get food and rest. Later I learned that he did not wish to return to my uncle's service, and in fact seemed terrified of the very idea, so we let him stay with us for the time being. He could have been a spy, so he would be watched constantly until he could be interrogated and released. 

After I read it I was happy that I was in the headquarters, away from my mother. Only Adewyn stood near me. She read it after me, with intense interest.

Finn,

I'm glad you're alive. You may not believe me, but I am. The plan called for you to be imprisoned and released later, not killed. Tyr got a little over-excited, as threatened as he was. Perhaps he was worried that you'd end up on the throne. Perhaps he was right to be. By the time I found out that he'd exceeded our agreement you'd already done your now famous leap to freedom, and we all thought you dead.

It is not too late for there to be peace between us. I am acting regent for now but both of us know that with Tyr dead, as long as you live, you will be regarded as the rightful heir by the ever squabbling nobles.

Let me speak plainly. I hold the castle. I hold two of my sisters. They are well, mostly, for now. You need to finish me to win. As long as I hold out here in Marche Grodayn, you cannot truly be king. And we both know that this fortress was made to hold out for years. Soon you will understand how time benefits my army and costs yours.

My demands are simple: Syrlin, and a small piece of land to call my own. Perhaps the isles? Somewhere to rule comfortably with your mother by my side. I promise to treat her well. Ignore her complaints, I think we both know how she likes to be taken. Your sisters can still be yours, if you want. I've had my fun with them.

I can make you suffer Finn. I won't even have to hurt you to do it. I think you know that by now. So what if my first attempts failed. Think how much I could do to you with my new friends if given months or years to plan first. Sieges take time, lad. Anything can happen.

Learn the lesson that your father should have: It is better to have me as a friend than an enemy.

On that subject it is my unpleasant duty to confirm to you that your father is dead. I did not kill him or have him killed. We had many disagreements, not least of which over your mother, but he was still my brother. I was merely holding him until he gave in to our demands. It was old politics in the manner of our family, Finn. I suspect Tyr of having him killed so he could advance more quickly to the throne, but he denied it until his death. I have no proof, in any case.

With Respect if not Love,

Bayrd

"No," was all Adewyn said, after reading the letter. She looked like she might be physically ill.

"No," I agreed, "he dies."


	22. Worth Dying For

Raisa and Adewyn were arguing in a good natured fashion when I found them in what the mayor called the eminence room, where speakers waited prior to addressing the Assembly. The Assembly of Guilds met in the adjacent room, which we had taken over for our own purposes. Right now the greatest mages and priests of the North (and also many of the coastal cities elsewhere) sat there, doubtless both irritated at being summoned like accused criminals and afraid at the implications of dire need. Priests and mages essentially wielded the same art, but did not enjoy being reminded of it. Only in dire emergencies would one work with the other. I considered this such an emergency.

"I heard that they're calling you the Ice Dragon again," Raisa said, needling her elder sister a bit.

Adewyn merely laughed.

"Better than what they're calling you," she replied.

"What?"

"You don't know?" Adewyn twisted the knife, as only elder sisters can.

"Just tell me!"

"The Wraith-Queen of Cymru."

"What?" Raisa sounded shocked, the poor dear, "That's not even..."

"You have to admit," I said, stepping into the room, "it is pretty catchy."

"Finn!" Raisa protested, "It isn't very nice!"

"Neither is 'Finn the Lusty'," Adewyn said, starting in on me now, "but it's true."

"Ugh," Raisa said, "You're both the worst."

Then she pouted, adorably. For a moment, we were all children together again, joking and making fun. Not adults responsible for a kingdom and its salvation. It was nice. Merwyd coming in, looking disheveled and a bit awkward and completed the scene. She always was adorable like that when she'd been studying. And I had no doubt that she'd been up all night with the task I had appointed her.

"I'm ready," she said, simply, offering me her wide smile, "and I didn't have to make many changes. You did a good job with the basic diagrams, Finn. I just clarified things."

I smiled back. Doubtless she brought the clarity of her brilliance to my post-sleep scrawlings. My sisters and I were together again. We could do anything. We entered the room.

I'll spare you all the details of the meeting. In total we spoke to around a hundred people. Priests, priestesses, lords of various arcane guilds and societies, and royal mages. It was our job to get them all to understand the threat and why we needed their cooperation. Merwyd explained the technical details of what would need to be taught and how quickly it could be learned. By the end of her presentation, all in the room knew how to draw the wards and purify magic. 

Then she explained how little we knew of the threat itself. Bayrd could bring forth physical monsters, but that took much effort, and he probably wasn't capable of conjuring them in great numbers. Spirits were easier, but again, they were largely powerless without a host, and they couldn't simply possess anyone without preparation or permission. It was likely that Bayrd would find a way to use both, and perhaps other forms as well, so she stressed the importance of being wary and warding as much as possible.

Naturally, when I stood up and made my final request for aid in securing the kingdom and its people was when things broke down.

One gentleman questioned whether I had the right to demand anything of them as king. I gave him the classic "you must of course follow your conscience" answer, but I believe it was just for form. I agreed, in spirit, to many tax reductions as well as further royal donations to various temples and colleges.

The real problem came when I couldn't deliver it all at once, so one of the older and most respected members wanted it all written down and signed. If anyone could agree on anything, that probably wouldn't have been a problem, but as it stood he wanted to adjourn for a few weeks and then come back and negotiate. Around half or more of the audience there rolled their eyes, understanding the dire nature of the threat. Eventually, I was forced to ask myself what my father would have done.

Octavius, the older priest who had healed my mother and killed a demon, was my greatest advocate, desperately attempting to bring the intransigents over to my point of view. When he failed, I stepped up.

"I suppose I understand your concerns. There's nothing about royalty that makes men honest. My father lied quite a bit, often to me."

As I was getting into the field of royal fallibility, the wiser members of the audience began to become concerned.

"The problem is, simply, that I don't have time to negotiate. And neither do you. We have, regrettably, found that the traitor Bayrd has suborned individuals who were in our service. Anyone who does as I ask today will be remembered and the magical and religious institutions that they serve will be rewarded. It is in the kingdom's best interests. That said, anyone who doesn't assist me will be considered to be in Bayrd's pocket."

There was an outcry. The gentleman from the front stood up, indignant.

"Are you saying we'd be considered treasonous?"

I smiled broadly. He'd taken the bait.

"No. As the succession was in question for some time, I couldn't really do that. However, Bayrd is a proven diabolist, so you too, as fellow arcanists, would be considered the same. Merwyd, dear, please remind me what the punishment for consorting with demons is as recorded in the most ancient and sacred laws of Cymru?"

Merwyd looked surprised to be called upon, but did a fine job, speaking so the entire room could hear her.

"Crucifixion."

"Ah," I said, firmly, "there you have it. Make up your minds or I will be forced to start making assumptions. You have until the chancellor calls your name to decide."

I wasn't sure if it would have the desired effect, but having killed my own brother made me seem like a credible threat. It probably helped that Merwyd and I were the two strongest mages in the room. I stood and watched as each and every person in the room agreed to do whatever it took to preserve the kingdom from the demonic threat. Which amounted to all of the battle-trained mages being sent to my army as soon as possible and the rest getting to work on warding everywhere of importance in the north and eventually south.

"Crucifixion! Ha! He's definitely his father's son," I heard Octavius say from the front of the room to his neighbor. I'd be offended but he clearly meant it as a compliment.

* * *

Once we had as many mages as we could stand, we marched south. We made it through the pass with no resistance. The men loved it but Adewyn didn't. Bayrd wasn't a military genius but he was intelligent. Smarter than me, anyhow. Adewyn pointed out to me that even a token force would have been able to slow us for days if not weeks, with sufficient magical support. It just meant that he'd be focusing his forces elsewhere, and had plans to wipe us out at a place of his choosing. A place with no opportunity for retreat or escape.

The worst part, for me, was that Raisa had no intelligence on what was happening in the mid-south. She had plenty of news from the coastal cities that Bayrd held and inland and even from the western mountains and valleys, but virtually nothing from the deep interior where we were headed. The south of Cymru is rolling hills and fertile valleys, until it hits the mountains and coastline. Farmland and good pasture as far as the eye can see. So, it stood to reason that someone, somewhere would have some news, and share it, accidentally or not. But they hadn't. Raisa felt incompetent but I knew her to be an extremely capable spymaster, so it was probably something far worse.

We didn't discover how much worse until we neared Marche Grodayn after almost a week of free movement. We heard it before we saw it. Hell, we heard it before we'd made it entirely through the pass. The scouts riding back looked like they'd seen death.

They had.

We hadn't heard anything from here because nearly of the population was dead, murdered at Bayrd's command. We hadn't seen any bodies because they were all standing between us and the castle. Standing, walking, and worst of all, screaming.

These weren't the quiet dead that the death singers of the Eldest sang into being long before man walked here. They had voices, and low animal cunning. To Adewyn's dismay, they did not oppose our entrance into the valley under Marche Grodayn that I had not seen in over five years. They waited for us to file in, smiling with inhuman hunger.

My family and I stood on a hill together, the army making camp beneath us, our mages setting up wards as fast as they could work, protected by archers. Every now and then a few of the things rushed our lines. Arrows brought them down.

"Tyr was mad and vile at the end, but not stupid," Merwyd said. She had figured it out first. "He was murdering those villages in the north so that they could be possessed by demonic spirits. He must have expected Bayrd to aid him with the process, because it never happened. Thank the gods we burned our dead before we left."

"Can they inhabit any corpse?" I asked, my mind filled with images of graveyards vomiting up generations of the restless dead. 

"No. They must be fresh. Relatively. Probably three days or less, maybe a week. By a fortnight they would be completely spoilt as vessels. They won't rot while they are inhabited, however. They trick nature into think that the corpse is alive, and thus does not decay."

"You know much of this subject," mother said with unhidden suspicion. 

Merwyd didn't gat angry, to her credit. She just sighed.

"Father had me research the topic and bring him information. He forbid any practical learning, however. Which is unfortunate because, illegal or not, I could have perhaps wrested control of Bayrd's new army from him if I had but an ounce of knowledge of..."

"No," I said, firmly, "you will not become a diabolist because you perceive our situation to be desperate. That is the path that Bayrd has chosen. I do not pretend to wisdom or understanding, but I've grown to understand my uncle through his true actions. He most certainly believes himself to be aggrieved in some manner," as I said this mother looked away in disgust, I did not blame her, "and is acting accordingly. He did not set out to be a mass murderer, and probably feels like he was pushed into it. As if he had no other path to deal with his family."

"But that's ridiculous!" mother said, "You must know what kind of man he is by now! I can't...I can't have been the only one he...."

"Peace," I said softly, putting my arm around her, "I do not mean he is good, or ever was. He's always treated women poorly, and I simply willed myself not to see it. I do not defend him. I understand him because it would have been easy for me to become like him."

"Rot," Adewyn said, and Raisa nodded, "you're nothing like him. You'd never have harmed your mother or us like that. Even when you were at your most selfish or angry, the worst you ever did was argue, never hurt us or take what wasn't freely and enthusiastically offered."

That made me feel pretty good, to be honest.

"It isn't rot," I said, sighing, "It's just the truth. I came out of that lake changed. I was stronger of will, to be sure, and mercenary service made me powerful, but the feeling of being wronged can lead a man down an awful path. Every day I thank the gods for Raisa's love. Without it I would have been lost."

She blushed and I held her hand. Her child was growing at a much slower rate than Artan had. Her stomach was only slightly visible through her clothing. Every time I saw it I was reminded why I had to kill Bayrd and finish this fucking war.

"Merwyd," I said, "will the wards stop the possessed bodies?"

"Yes. In fact if they cross the ward they will be banished and the corpses will become inert. They can be stopped through simple physical harm as well, but not as easily as a man. On the bright side, as such things go, they will not have a venomous bite and are fairly simple minded and unlikely to use armor effectively. They probably can pick up swords and such but will be clumsy with them. They won't have strength or abilities beyond that of the body they inhabit, either. They can also be dangerous to have around, so Bayrd is probably keeping them outside of the castle."

"So they have numbers but lack skill." Adewyn said, "We've beaten worse odds than this."

"Well," I said, "I'm not the expert here but I know enough about the wards to know that they will break if the diagram is significantly damaged. So expect Bayrd and his mages to target them when they are ready to attack. And probably his soldiers as well."

"I agree," Raisa said, "I think that means that they aren't likely to attack at night, though. They need to see their targets just like we do."

"Tomorrow we'll give them some battle," Adewyn said, "and see how things go. We'll probe. No overreaching. If we can we'll advance the camp a little more each day, like a movable fortress. I'd expect Bayrd to have more of those flying fucks and maybe some other surprises. What do you think, Finn?"

"I think that it's nice that you asked me, honestly," I said, "but everyone on this hill knows who runs the army. I'm just the guy who has to look pretty in a shiny hat."

Adewyn laughed and then came closer. My family began to split up and talk about what each of them had to do. Almost without any intervention on my part, both mother and Merwyd had found responsibilities for themselves, largely of a magical nature. They argued with each other and it was clear that mother had some distrust of Merwyd still, but I could also see genuine affection. I suspect that most of it game from Merwyd sharing a bed with Tyr for so long and her own projection over her similar situation with Bayrd. That bothered me too, but it didn't make me trust Merwyd any less. It made me want to dig Tyr up so I could kill him again.

My selfish revenge fantasies were interrupted by Adewyn's hand on my ass. Her touch was hesitant, almost delicate. It had been a while for her, and we had not been together since she had given birth. I had been on my very best behavior with her. Barely.

"You know," she said, casually, "my six weeks are up tonight. The priestesses said that we could..."

She didn't get another word out. I picked her up as a groom would his bride and carried her off, to her great amusement and some cheering from my family.

You only get one life to live, after all, and the undead would still be there tomorrow.

* * *

I took Adewyn back to my own tent. She giggled and distracted me with kisses on my face and neck all the way back. I lay her down gently upon my bed.

"You're not being quiet as fierce with me tonight," she said, looking up at me with dreamy, half-lidded eyes, her voice husky with desire.

"I can fuck you hard if you want," I said pulling off my shirt, "but right now I'm still getting used to you being the mother of my child."

"Finn...you don't have to treat me any differently," she said, "you know what I like. All it means is that I'm more in your debt. I'm yours as long as you'll have me." It was flattering the way that she couldn't keep her eyes off of the muscles of my torso. 

I could see the devotion in her eyes. What we had was changed, but it wasn't unwelcome.

"Well, if that's so, then take your shirt off for me, slowly."

I said it rather intending it as a joke. The idea that she'd do exactly as I had said without any backtalk was completely absurd. But that's just what she did. 

She got on her knees first and then, slowly, hesitantly, took her shirt off. She wore no binding or underclothes and as she took it off her enlarged breasts popped into view. I'd of course seen them since she'd given birth, but she had been feeding our son, so sex hadn't been the first thing on my mind. Her skin still had its natural tan. Her belly wasn't quite as toned, and had a bit of fat, but it merely added additional curves. She sat and looked up at me with expectation...and maybe a bit of anxiety. 

"Gods, you're more beautiful now then you were before. I don't know how that's possible."

She looked down.

"Finn...come on. I know that's not true."

I put my finger on her chin and brought her gaze to mine and leaned in and kissed her softly. She leaned up towards me as I stopped, chasing the kiss, wanting more.

"Yes it is. Don't contradict your husband while he's adoring you. Did you think I wouldn't find you as lovely after you'd borne my child? That I would be so shallow and cruel?"

"No, love! I just...I just don't always recognize myself in the mirror any more. That's all. I was worried I would disappoint you."

"The only way you'd disappoint me right now is by leaving. Right now, I've very much missed your fine mouth."

She smiled again, flushed with excitement. Then she reached up, hands trembling a little with excitement and began to unbuckle my belt eagerly, like a child unwrapping a gift at their birthday. She drew my cock out eagerly, and then licked her lips as she looked at me. My cock twitched as she did it.

"I so missed your taste, brother," she said, and then took me in her mouth. More, she took me as deep as she could, right away. 

"Oh fuck, Adewyn. That feels....gods..."

I put my hands on her head, entwining my fingers in her fine hair. She moaned at my touch, moving faster, licking, sucking and gripping my head with her throat. She barely took time to breathe. Any part not in her mouth was serviced by her agile hand, her saliva making every touch slick and wonderful. 

I felt my cock twitch in her mouth. I wanted to stop her, I truly did but she wasn't having it. I understood what she wanted. She was serving me, being a good sister. "

"Adewyn, I'm close..."

She sped up and then looked up at me, locking eyes as she slowly took me in her mouth deeply again, and held me. It was too much. 

I came, spurt after spurt, and she swallowed as fast as she could, even as I fired more down her throat and filled her mouth. She did her best, but a little escaped as my cock came out of her mouth and hit her on the cheek and spilled down her chin and on her swollen breast.

As I watched, suddenly relaxed, she scraped every bit of my seed off of her face and breast, and licked it as if it were the finest delicacy. Then she looked up at me and smiled, like the goddess she was.

"Lay down," I said.

She did, and lifted her ass up to accommodate me pulling her breaches off. Her ass was a little larger, and it was gorgeous to see it jiggle slightly as it came out of her slightly too-tight pants. Her legs were pressed together on the bed and I could see her sex, swollen and wet. And gods that smell. It wasn't that strong, not truly, and certainly not unpleasant. Like all my lovers I was attuned to it's musk. Hers had changed again, after giving birth. It was...richer, somehow. 

"Spread your legs for me."

"Finn, you don't have to..."

"That wasn't a request," I said, softly, but firmly.

She laid back and parted her legs. Gods I loved her white thatch so much. 

"I've missed your flavor, Adewyn. I've been thinking about it a great deal lately. How much I wanted to feel you cum on my tongue."

She bit her lip and looked up at me, trembling. She was a mix of hesitancy, still not quite convinced that she was as attractive to me post-birth, and need. She was far more aroused than I had thought, and probably frustrated. I appreciated that she had serviced me first.

I leaned down, slowly and kissed her inner thighs first. She shuddered a bit as I let my breath pass over her labia and held it there.

"What is it that you want, Adewyn. Say it."

"I...oh Finn I want you to lick me. Please lick me and touch me and make me cum. Please. I haven't cum in...in so long. I've waited for this...I wanted it to be...like real...oh Finn, gods Finnnnn...."

She'd waited? As in she hadn't even touched herself? For six weeks? For a Pureblood that was like being a temple maiden. This was an old tradition for marriage. Most Purebloods didn't do it. It was regarded as being difficult at the best of times. No restrictions on the man, of course, but women were supposed to abstain from anything that would give them orgasms for at least a month prior to the actual wedding. 

I didn't truly let her finish, however. I moved in and sucked part of her labia into my mouth and then probed deeply within her with my tongue as I used my thumb to gently caress her clit. Her body jumped as if I'd burned her, her hands locking in my hair, her back arched to push more of herself into my mouth. I'd need to make sure that she came hard tonight.

I couldn't help but stop for a moment, teasing her a little.

"Easy there sister. I'll make you cum when I'm ready."

She looked down at me, her eyes filled with desire and she nodded, biting her lip. 

"Pl...Please, Finn. I'll be good. Please let me cum. Please."

I wasn't used to this. I expected her to call me a brat and tell me to get back to work. Her acquiescence aroused me in new ways. I rewarded her with my tongue around her clit, as I pushed a finger inside of her. I didn't make her wait long. I circled and lapped at her clit while I pistoned my finger inside of her. How in the hell was a woman who just gave birth this tight? Then again she always did have powerful internal muscles that she'd always used to milk my cock for every drop.

I added a finger and plunged it in her again and again. She gasped and moaned and rolled her hips into my probing and lashing tongue. Her grip on my hair grew tighter, painfully so. 

"Finn, oh gods...please be my husband tonight, please don't lea....oh godsssss..."

She didn't get the words out. Her hips bucked as she came, and it wasn't gentle. Her back arched again, and locked. She cried out, as loudly as when she'd given birth, and fell back quivering and shaking. I realized that she wasn't done, the orgasm was drawn out and pushing her, holding her and toying with her. Tears ran down her cheeks. I'd never seen her like this and it was deeply arousing. In fact, I was as hard as a rock.

I slid up her body smoothly as she was distracted and entered her. I didn't hurt her, as she was well ready for my cock. She had a little surprise on her face as I began to fuck her in earnest and I kissed her full on the lips as I did so, our tongues meeting and her moaning into my mouth. Gods it felt good to be inside my sister again.

Her orgasm blended into another, and then another. They were small, fast, and wouldn't stop carrying her. She clung to me as if I was her only hope in a storm, moaning into my ear now as I whispered into hers.

"I'll never leave you, Adewyn. Never. You belong to me. Do you understand. Me and only me. I love you and that is all you need to know tonight."

I felt her nodding into my shoulder as she shuddered again, then went limp. I was just getting started, however, and I pulled her legs up over my shoulders and truly began to fuck her hard. Not painfully so, but enough that she knew how much my desire was for her. And gods, the slight amount of weight around her belly and the generous size of her breasts made her jiggle deliciously with each impact. And she gasped and whimpered each time I plunged inside her. She was, essentially, helpless to me, opened and vulnerable.

She had one hand on my chest and one on my face, and she met my eyes with such giving love that I began to lose control already. 

"Gods sister...if you look at me like that...you'll be pregnant again...soon..."

She laughed, throatily, as her body began to shake again. Again! Gods, her quim was gripping me so tightly, if I wasn't so hard it would be difficult to re-enter her. I couldn't hold out a moment longer, I came. 

My seed entered her deepest places. I doubted that she would be fertile right now, it was a difficult proposition for Pureblood women at times, but I still felt the new magic that I was becoming accustomed to. The filling of her with me, physically and spiritually. She gasped as she came one last time, surprised but much more gently, looking me in the eyes as she did so. Finally, I was spent, completely. I rolled off of her. She mewled sadly as I left her, my cock still fairly hard.

"Gods, woman, did you need more?"

She laughed.

"No, Finn. I just...loved feeling you inside me again. I feel quite well loved right now. No one ever made me feel like this, you know."

I looked at her flushed face and adoring gaze. I felt very loved in return.

"Isn't a husband supposed to get his bride some kind of gift? I suppose I got you that ring, but really, that doesn't count."

She was wearing the ring now, and she held it up as I mentioned it.

"But I cherish the ring, its perfect and I never want another. And I already know that you have things picked out for us. I suppose if you wanted to grant me a request...I never had a Bridal Night, you know. I would like one, in my own bed, when we take the castle back. If that's all right with you, of course, husband."

Wedding ceremonies could be elaborate or simple, but the Bridal Night was always enforced. The groom and his new wife would be sequestered for the entire night. Words would be exchanged, family decisions made. There were a few, very simple rites. Mostly, making love was the most important thing. More even than a ring, the women regarded it as a sign of a man's actual commitment. 

"You're damn right you're going to have one. But you know you don't have to be quite that humble, right? I love you as you are, and I...I know that we clash, sometimes. I love that out of all of my family you keep me honest to myself."

"But I want to be humble! Don't worry, I'll still be a bitch from time to time, and I'll speak my mind. I just...when its just us, I want you to know that I'm your wife. I'm your wife. And for Pureblood women, that means submission to your will. I'll still be on top if you want, but...I want it to be what you want. I want to be yours. I want to do this right. I know you'd never leave me and I never want to give you reason to regret your decision to marry me."

I looked at her quite seriously.

"I meant everything I said. I don't regret it and I won't. There will be no releasing you."

"You're gods damned right there won't," she said, more like what I was accustomed to, "if you keep making me cum like that, I'll steal you away from Raisa and Merwyd forever." She smiled at me.

I smiled widely at her in return, and pulled her into a deep and soft kiss, and then let her settle on my chest to sleep. We'd probably get woken up a bit so she could feed Artan. That was fine with me. It always made me feel complete to watch her feed our son. 

The sight reminded me what was worth dying for.


	23. Old Flames

Before this part of the war, "making camp" had been pitching tents and making sure we had a well patrolled perimiter. Now it meant that, and wards, and trees cut crudely and arranged into barricades and walls. We had towers not just on the outside but also simple ones on the inside, in case anything managed to breach our wards or overflew us. We trained our Sergeants in how to spot possessions, and any with even the vaguest amount of magical power were taught how to repair wards. We advanced a little bit each day, fighting for every inch of ground we gained, almost totally surrounded by Bayrd's army of the damned, moving our mobile fortifications with us. Each part of our force was a cog in a well-oiled machine. Archers protecting mages who were drawing wards while heavy infantry fought ahead of them. 

The wards a the outside of our lines constantly glowed eerie blues and greens as they were always in proximity or touching some kind of demonic presence. It certainly felt as though Bayrd had opened the gates to the pit. It was a vision of hell, and I was never prouder to be a part of this army. 

A few broke from the constant noise and aggression. To my surprsie, Adewyn recommended that any man whose courage failed him be treated with compassion and given rest in the center of the camp, the safest part. I'd always believed in the sort of harsh discipline that father taught me but her way worked better. Usually the same men who broke would end up back on the line later, ready to serve again.

What helped morale more than anything however, was that we were "winning". Or at least moving towards our objective, the outskirts of the town and the castle itself. Also, despite seeing more of the flying things and seeing some huge misshapen things moving in the night, not one demon had been able to break more than our outermost ward. They couldn't go around, over, or under them, and we drew them as we moved often even as men fought. 

The real problem was what we would do once we got there. We could put the castle to siege. We could not take it by force. In fact, I'm not sure any army could, at least without breaking down the walls with magic. For a variety of reasons this was not a wise solution, although I had entertained it in discussions with Merwyd. She agreed that it could be breached, in theory, but the amount of force required may very well bring the whole castle, or indeed the side of the mountain down. And neither of us were capable of such a feat, in any case.

The worst of the fighting, that I witnessed anyway, was at the end of the third day. We could see the castle, through the ugly gray mist that had stuck to the ground throughout the morning and afternoon. It was looming over us, presaging tomorrows struggle. Night was coming. The evening didn't bring peace, not precisely, but the attacks simmered down to raids. It appeared that possessing spirits were still limited by the bodies that they inhabited. The human eye could only see so well at night and the creatures were not accustomed to losing sight because of simple darkness, so they tended to get confused more easily then men.

At Adewyn's urging I spent a great deal of my time walking the lines and assisting where I could with magic. At Raisa's urging I tried not to stay in one place or make myself obvious for too long, because Bayrd had mages and archers mixed in with his hordes, and they doubtlessly had orders to kill me. Merwyd understood how difficult it would be for me to both help with war magery while remaining non-descript. Shooting lightning out of your fingertips does tend to draw the eye.

So she hung back, just a bit, a few steps really, and focussed on defense, while I provided help on the line where it looked like it was bending, or blew holes in the enemy lines to allow forward movement. We were, as always, in effortless sync. 

I stepped forward to gain better line of sight on a target, and she moved her almost-invisible walls of force with me. She stepped back a bit because she was drawing fire, I shifted to attack her attacker. It was like a dance. 

I threw gouts of fire, powerful, uncontrolled. They washed over the enemy lines and the things inside screamed, feeling the pain of their stolen bodies. Arrows and even some lightning crackled over the energies that Merwyd held between me and death. I looked back at her and we met eyes, just for a moment. Her dark red hair stuck to her forehead with sweat, her simple dress clung to her curves. She smiled, just a little crooked raising of her left lip. A mage thought that I was distracted and drew upon ice to kill her. I deflected that and with a word she made the earth swallow him.

"I always knew that you had magic in you," she said, strengthening a ward on the line while a noviitiate priest ran up and fixed it, "Raisa and I both knew it. We even went to the castle library together and did research on how to help you. Short of causing you extreme pain, possibly to the point of dying, we found nothing. And we didn't want to give you or father any ideas."

I laughed. Father would have liked it and I would have gone along with it for the slightest chance at unlocking my magic.

"I found something," I said, bringing lightning down farther back among the enemy advance, "in a book written by a madman. It turns out emotional distress works just as well as physical. Maybe better."

Merwyd frowned, thinking as she wove magic. Her power was lower than mine but her skill was unparalleled. If she had ever truly wished to kill me, she could have, in the past or now. Her train of thought stopped and she focused on deflecting a rain of deadly-sharp hail that fell upon our soldiers. I laid bursts of fire at the origin of the attack.

"Gods," she said, finally, "were you that distraught? Over Tyr's betrayal? I'd wondered how it was for you to survive, after your fall, but...I was afraid to ask."

The attacks were dying off. Twilight was growing deep and there was little point in their raids now. Fresh troops took up the defense as our mages re-drew the wards that would mark our line for the night.

"That was bad, but it wasn't what brought about my awakening."

She looked at me, her brow furrowed in puzzlement. Now I was distracted, because she was adorable like that. I walked up to her and brushed some of her sweat-laden hair out of her face.

"What was it?" she asked.

"Honestly? It was you. It was losing you, then thinking that you had betrayed me. You fell pregnant so quickly, I thought...well I thought that you might have even had foreknowledge if not acceptance after the fact."

Her face shifted from thought to anxiety so quickly I felt bad for telling her. She opened her mouth to defend herself but I spoke first.

"I know," I said, "I know well enough now, and had I been thinking then I would have at least kept a more open mind. For a while, months if not a year or more, I was not well. I thought of revenge against Tyr and you almost in equal measure. I even considered hurting Gwyn, although I did not yet know her name. Now even the idea makes me sick. It still hurts to think about you being with him...after what he did to me. I won't lie about that to you. At times I grow angry about it, and others I grow sad at the thought of you enduring something that you never wanted, in order to stay alive. The truth is I don't know what I would have done had our positions been reversed."

She looked at me, deep sadness in her eyes. She had worked to conceal it from me, I knew. She still carried some guilt as I carried anger, but when we were together, it was evident that our affection was dominant, and slowly overcoming the rest.

"I never want to be separated from you again, Finn," she said, touching my face lightly as she smiled, "and I truly do not care if you marry me or not. I don't need special privledges with you because I know you won't hurt me. When things were at there worst...I remembered us, together. Sometimes when we were making love, but other times when we were playing as children, or even when we kissed in the garden. Do you remember that? When we were too young to even truly understand love, but we were most definitely in it."

I laughed, genuinely.

"How could I forget? It was the first time I truly enraged father. It was worth it, and I told him so."

She looked puzzled.

"I remember us being caught and I was...sent away for a few months to 'consider what we had done' as we weren't supposed to be seeing each other outside of lessons. Too much kissing. When I got back it took us a few more months to start again, and then I reached my majority and things became...very nice."

She smiled at the memory, I did too.

"You missed quite a bit, and I made Adewyn and Raisa promise not to tell you."

"What?" she said, alarmed.

"Your mother and mine took you away. I know that they gave you a 'stern talking to' before you left. I was upset. In fact I was truly angry for the first time. Father told me I was not to see you any more and was to wait for Raisa. I told him to fuck off and that we loved each other as mother and he did. I called him a hypocrite to his face."

Merwyd looked shocked. It was a pretty stupid thing to do.

"What...what happened?" she asked, quietly.

"I got beaten to within an inch of my life. My ribs were cracked and there was blood in my urine for almost a week. I had trouble standing and walking about. Father forbid the healers from doing more than ensuring that I would not die, and denied me any tea to kill the pain. He wanted the memory of the consequences to linger. He did the same to Tyr once as well, for backtalk. It wasn't 'unfair' but it was brutal and mad."

"Oh...oh dear gods," Merwyd said, horror dawning on her face, "they told me you were just confined for a week to your room and were fed poorly for a while...I had no idea."

"No, you didn't. They didn't lie. I was confined, not that I could go anywhere. But, as I told him after he had calmed down and I had gotten better, you were worth that and much more."

Merwyd leaned in and kissed me, very suddenly and spontaneously. It was most unlike her, and I reached around her and grasped her ass, holding her up, pressing her into me. My body responded to hers and we stopped, panting, her leaning her forehead into mine.

"I...I was going to my tent to bathe and get cleaned up...you look like you could use some attention as well..."

The she gave me her crooked little smile, turned and swayed away. I followed. Later that evening I would be glad that I did.

* * *

I followed her in. There was already a large wooden bath there, full of water. Merwyd was always prepared.

"Bartles has Gwyn for a little while longer," she said, untying a simple cord at the back of her dress and letting it drop off of her petite and curvy frame. It was so sudden that I felt my jaw drop. 

Her pale and freckled skin was glistening with sweat from her exertions, her dark red hair wild and her deep green eyes alive with lust. Her breasts were heavy and large, lightly upturned and barely sagging even after motherhood, her nipples hard. She stood, one foot forward, making her full hips posed like a statue of the ancients. Her bush was full and wet with sweat and her arousal, which I could scent from where I was.As I watched a cold breeze entered from under the tent flap and her skin broke out in gooseflesh. She shiverred, involuntarily, which made her body move and jiggle an an unbelievably sensual fashion. I felt my cock twitch at the sight. She noticed having been staring at the very noticeable bulge in my breaches.

She said a word and the water bubbled briefly and began to emit steam. She stepped in and sat down.

"Are you coming, brother? I'm feeling quite dirty this evening and I might need a little help..."

She laughed at me as I fumbled with my breaches and shirt. I stopped when I was nude, however, looking at her with a smirk. She looked worried for a moment, and I wasn't above teasing her a bit.

"You know," I said, strolling over to the bath as if I was in no rush at all, "your sisters told me all about your little plans and manipulations. When you were but a scholarly young thing and wanted my attention. The bullies and your ankle 'injury'. The many times I caught you changing. The foreign gentleman."

She was already pink from the heat of the bath, and now she turned bright red. She bit her lip adorably and sunk low in the bath as if hiding from me.

"Oh...oh lord, Finn," she stuttered out, "I...I was so young and stupid. Adewyn was naturally sexual and knew how to get you hot with little effort and even Raisa seemed to know how to be a bit seductive and flirty even if she was too young for you and I had no idea. I was so plain and naive compared to them. So...so I... I made plans...and...oh gods...this is so embarassing...I never wanted you to..."

I showed her mercy.

"You are always so cute when you get flustered," I said, stepping into the bath.

"Oh gods...I'm never going to live this down..."

"I hope not," I said, sitting down and gently pushing her legs apart as I moved over her, "I wish to make you blush that wonderfully again in the future."

She looked up at me and put her hands on my face, her lips parted in anticipation.

"Finn, I'm so ready for you, but I'm so unsure of so many things. My mind won't stop. I don't know why you tolerate me, brother. I love you truly but what if I'm of no use to you or make you look bad? What if I'm...I'm no longer fertile? Many Pureblood women can only have one child. What..what if something happens to you? Sometimes that keeps me up all night and..."

I kissed her, long and slow. Her tongue shot into mine eagerly. One arm wrapped under mine and around my back to pull me closer and the other reached out and held my cock gently, rubbing it affectionately. I growled in my throat as we kissed.

"I don't know what will happen tomorrow, love," I said, after we stopped for a moment, "but tonight I'm going to make you cum, hard, and forget about your worries for a little while."

We were done with words. She nodded and her small hand left my cock and grabbed my buttock, pulling me closer with urgency, deeper into the bath, towards her sex. She rolled her hips to let me inside her more easily, and whimpered as I reached her entrance. I slipped inside her warm tightness naturally, easily, as though we were meant for each other.

Merwyd whimpered as I entered her, pulling me close, and for a moment clutching me tightly in place, as if she wanted this oneness to last forever, biting my neck, then she loosened her grip a bit. She let me move out of her and then pulled me back into her, the water making waves as I did so. It wasn't rough. I knew that we wouldn't be tonight. The time for roughness had passed as our negative emotions had begun to wane. This was as we should be. 

As I moved she grew more and more responsive. Not a stroke went by without being answered by a whimper, then a moan. My hand slid easily over her breast, gripping it tightly, then pinching and teasing her nipple, pulling on it ever so gently. If I did not love her so I do not know how I would have maintained enough control to do so. She gave me soft cries in response, as high pitched and gentle as a small bird in distress. I kissed her neck, nipping and marking her, although somewhat lightly. 

That was something that she had always loved, to have marks from me, even if she had to hide them in the past. She said they reminded me of who she truly belonged to. Her nails dug into my back, involuntarily as she came. Her breath shouted out in irregular ragged exertions, the water sloshing out onto the floor, as she was carried on the wave of her orgasm. It was not small, nor was it brief. I fucked her through it, building in intensity, but I held her head and kissed her mouth gently as it passed through her.

After the day's work I was tired, although I had no intention of slowing. She knew this almost preternaturally, and pushed on my shoulder gently, as if to spin me. We rolled over, smoothly, as one, her on the top and me on the bottom. She looked down at me, smiling, her small hands on my chest. I had one hand on her waist as I thrust into her and she rolled and bucked her hips on me. With the other I gently caressed her clitoris, teasing and prodding her to greater movements. She bit her lip and closed her eyes and came again, this time hard and shuddering and quick, her quim giving me quick strokes and clenching me tightly over and over, as if with a tight but soft hand. It was almost too much to bear.

The water began to slosh more, spilling out on all sides, sloppily making everything wet around us. Merwyd's eyes opened hungrily and she began to truly ride me, like a tigress in heat, taking her pleasure from me and giving it in equal measure. I knew that she was trying to make me cum, exciting me until my seed entered her. This part had always excited her the most, getting me to my peak and over, showing me how much she loved me and cherished me by draining my cum into her quim.

I came, grunting and growling, gripping her waist with hands that trembled. Thick ropes of my love filled her, painting her sacred space even as our power mingled. She gave to me as I gave to her. Although this was effort after a difficult day, I often wondered whether or not the energy she gave me helped me later when I needed it most. This was the last time we would be together before the storm, and we both knew it. There would be no other chances until after all was done.

I finshed and she collapsed on top of me, panting and kissing me, making me feel as though I was the only man in the world. Eventually she rose off of me. We cleaned each other in silence, quietly soaping and feeling and kissing as if fulfilling a sacred rite. When we were done we got out, she dressed for sleep, and I pulled my clothes back on. I had things I still needed to do that evening, so I could not stay.

As I left, we looked at each other, melencholy at parting, but satisfied in each other's love. Each knew where the other stood. I felt on more solid ground than I had even a half hour ago. 

The latter wouldn't last, but it was lovely at the time.


	24. Doom's Eve

Much of my family came close to dying that night. Bayrd had waited patiently until we felt that we understood the only threats that we faced, and it almost paid off for him. It was a form of complacency, even if we were ready and waiting for the next demonic attack. I ask myself at times if we could have done more. Probably, but the world was madness around us, and we were doing pretty well despite it.

I was with Adewyn in the headquarters tent and we were going over strategies for fighting the army of the damned, as I came to think of it. Even here we could hear their cries and moans. Specifically, how to deal with flying demon attacks, or magical ambushes, or hordes of dead men who felt no pain or fear. Wards would be effective until his mages could destroy them or his human soldiers could deface them. We had plans for a single battle, punching through and getting close enough to the castle where I could throw Caliban and hopefully she could add enough momentum for me to go to her and get on the wall or near a window. She could float slowly, but not carry me so I'd have to be accurate and quick if I wanted to avoid falling, but it was the best way we could think of getting me closer to Bayrd. Adewyn, naturally, thought it madness, and she suggested several alternatives, including possibly simply scaling it with a small force the following night. It would be difficult but there was a great deal of wear on certain faces of the castle. She also floated the concept of Raisa going alone with Caliban and using her to bring me in, although I had never been called that before, and I wasn't all that happy with the idea of endangering my pregnant wife in that way, even as capable as she was. We didn't come to a final decision, but we agreed on several possibilities that we could decide from when we reached the foot of the fortress. We were wrapping up, putting away maps, when she stopped in thought.

She looked away from me. I had to make my own preparations for tomorrow's fighting but I knew she wasn't delaying for no reason.

"Finn," she said, softly, "do you remember when I came to your room all those years ago in the middle of the night? It was maybe a few weeks after your majority..."

I nodded. I did. It was long ago but I remembered it clearly, if only because it was so out of character for her. I had been reminded of it when we had made love right before she gave birth, because of the unusual vulnerability that she had shown when I held her afterwards.

"That was when I should have known. I should have told you everything and just asked you to come with me to speak with father or even just leave together. I never wanted to talk about it because it made me feel ashamed and weak. Up to that point I always tried to be the good older sister and look out for you, and it wouldn't have occurred to me to go to you for protection. Tyr and Bayrd came back from drinking at one of the local pubs. They stunk of liquor and sweat. Tyr wanted me, which I didn't complain about. It was a very typical request, it was my duty, and I loved him. But he had me right there, in the study. Bayrd watched. It was so strange and unsettling. When Tyr started getting a bit too rough, I asked him to slow down, and eventually I pleaded for him to stop. He didn't. Bayrd egged him on, telling him that I needed to be put in my place, and then he...he joined in. It was the first time anything like that had ever happened to me. I was past twenty then, I think, but still naive. Especially with men. I cried, and they didn't care, Finn. Afterwards neither of them stopped me from leaving. I guess they didn't think that they had done anything wrong. I cleaned myself up as best I could and drank as much Bride's Bane as I could find. Then I went to my room. But I was so afraid, Finn. I was afraid they'd come and do it again. So I went where I knew I would be safe. I went to the one man that I knew would never, ever do anything like that to me and help to protect me if I needed it. I went to you, Finn."

Even after all I had seen and all I had learned, I was still shocked. How could they? And to Adewyn? The girl who loved Tyr. Loved him at least as much as Raisa had loved me those years ago. What kind of monsters had I been living with? How could I have missed all of these signs? She wasn't looking at me, and she had more to say.

"I know now I could have gone to father. I should have. He would have done...something. Maybe stopped all this years before. Put Tyr right, somehow. Exiled Bayrd. Something. I know it's my fault, in part. So I just wanted to ask you one more time for forgiveness. And tell you how much I loved you for being different. Then and now."

The anger in my voice startled her and she jumped a little. It startled me, as well. I thought I had been controlling it well. 

"No. You aren't to blame for those rapists. Mother isn't to blame for not getting Bayrd killed for the things that he tried to do to her. I still feel angry that father missed it. Hell, I'm angry at myself for the same thing, but it wasn't our fault. Just them, Adewyn. Just. Them. I killed one of them, and I'll kill the other one soon. I'll do it so you will be safe and I'll do it so no one has to go through what you did again. No one is hurting you like that again. You...you are precious to me, as you should have been to Tyr or anyone with a heart and sense."

We embraced and I kissed her gently. I think things would have gone a nicer way despite my earlier activity with Merwyd, had I not noticed two things. The first was that Caliban was floating by the table, and sent me anxiety. I had her near me, as I commonly did, but she had her own will and sense and acted on it. Something was happening and she wanted me to know about it.

The second was that Adewyn's shadow started to grow and rise from the floor, becoming three dimensional. My first thought in my stupor was that it was a demon, but that couldn't have been, we were in the most heavily warded part of the camp and someone would have needed to physically remove or damage quite a few inscriptions to get at us. Regardless, I'm proud to say I did the right thing, even if it wasn't particularly graceful.

I shouted and pulled Adewyn away from her own shadow, which quite unnaturally stayed in place, almost throwing her behind me with one hand while projecting an Arrow of Light with the other. There was a cry of shock from Adewyn but also a grunt of pain from the shadow. It melted away, revealing the corpse of a man in a cowl and hood.

"Seyla assassins," Adewyn said.

I nodded, about to ask her for her opinion on what to do when Caliban simply vanished. That was unexpected, and I'd never seen it before. 

"Did someone take her?" Adewyn said, confused.

"No. No-one can force her to come to them. She has to respond to their call, and she can't do so unless she's contacted their mind before and she won't do that unless she likes them..." I said, trailing off as I realized the actual severity of the situation. I felt Caliban calling out to me, and all I had to do was give her permission to draw me to her, wherever she happened to be. I looked at Adewyn and made a decision, "Go check on Mother and Raisa!"

"What about Mer..." was all Adewyn got out. I disappeared. This was the farthest trip that I'd taken using this ability, and I would be lying if I said that I didn't feel a little anxiety about it, although I was fairly certain I knew where I was going. Every other time I'd let Caliban call me we'd been in direct line of sight with her. This time it wasn't quite instant, and I saw a flash of shadows and flame.

Then I was in Merwyd's tent, having arrived where Caliban was floating just moments before. Merwyd was on the ground, a man standing over her, holding chains. It seemed like he had just hit her, as her lip was split and bleeding. Standing off to the side, crying, was Gwyn. As I had reasoned, it was she who had called Caliban. She'd been in contact with my spear during the first demon attack. Another two men were closing on the little girl. Caliban was doing her best to interpose herself, but she needed a combatant to wield her to actually fight.

Time seemed to slow for me, as it does when one is in a crisis. The man to the left of Gwyn moved towards her suddenly, viper-quick while the one to her right flanked her. I saw movement from the hand of the man who was standing by Merwyd. I only had time to react to one of them. I loosed lightning at both of the men near Gwyn, easily catching them both and killing them. I aimed high to avoid hitting my niece and the bolt went through the roof of the tent.

I think I had assumed that the gesture was the Seyla drawing a weapon, but I was very wrong. It was magic. Caliban tried to help to protect me, which is the most likely reason that I survived. I was dimly aware of Merwyd killing him with well-placed white flame at exactly the same time I was hit. 

I felt incredible pain and pressure in the upper left of my face as sight from my left eye simply winked out. I spun like a child's top, and must have flown a good few paces back into the wall of the tent. I was still trying to recover, or indeed even to think properly as Merwyd and Gwyn ran to me. The fourth man, whom neither of them saw, threw some kind of chains over Caliban. She fell from the air and from my mind as if she were but a common item of bone and steel. Then he simply caught her and carried her away as she dropped into his hands.

I passed out rather swiftly after that. I remember thinking that at least I wasn't going to die alone, as I had thought I would ever since I went out that window years ago.

* * *

I came to, in my tent, maybe a half hour later. I knew what I'd lost. Most of it anyway. The pain was awful but it was bearable. Such is the dubious blessing of the frequently injured. 

Octavius was standing over me. While he examined my face and eye, I could hear most of my family outside, probably giving him time and space to work.

"I can't see out of my left eye."

"That's because its wrecked, son," he said, with compassion, "I'm going to have to clean up the area, and then heal the actual wound. That's all I can do for you, I'm afraid. You might get your sight back eventually, and you might not. Purebloods heal from things that ordinary men do not, from time to time."

"It would have to happen today, of all times."

His eyebrows went up.

"There isn't a good day to lose an eye. I can give you something for the pain if you want."

"No. I have to fight tomorrow. All of us do. Clean me and heal me and get some rest. You'll need it for all the newly wounded after the battle."

He laughed, grimly.

"You know it's bad when my patients are telling me to sleep. All right, hold still. This will hurt a little, but it will mostly just be uncomfortable. Hold still."

I felt peculiar magics, and then water began to pour out of the area of my eye. He was summoning pure elemental fluid directly there. It was uncomfortable, but I felt better afterwards. The healing he did afterwards was brutal and quick, however, and made my eye feel like it was on fire. He finished with simple clean bandages.

"Tomorrow, replace this with a patch, but keep it covered. It will give you a superior chance to regain your vision."

"Thank you, Octavius. Stay safe tomorrow."

"I'd tell you the same sire but I know you won't, so instead I'll just say good hunting."

I shook his hand. I'd never had much use for priests, to be honest. Now I felt differently about at least one of them.

I watched my family members come in. Gwyn was unhurt and Merwyd had developed a black eye and a split lip from her encounter. She hadn't bothered getting it healed prior to visiting me and it didn't appear to bother her at all. She gave me a sweet little smile that reminded me of our encounter earlier in the evening. It seemed like a hundred years ago. Mother and Artan were fine, and in fact she had no idea anything was amiss until Adewyn found her. Since the two demonic attacks we'd kept her location a secret, and apparently the Seyla could not find her either. Adewyn was unharmed as well, thank the gods. But someone was missing. Adewyn looked at me. She clearly didn't want to say it, but she was brave and she knew that she had to.

"We can't find Raisa."


	25. Raisa

"We can't find Raisa," Adewyn said, meeting my remaining eye, "I don't know if they kidnapped her or not. Her room looked like it had seen a fight, and there were two dead assassins in it. She put up a fight at least."

"Gods dammit. They got Caliban too. Gwyn," I said, turning to my niece, "can you feel her at all?"

She found herself the focus of all the attention in the room and turned a bit shy, but shook her head no after a moment of concentration. Then she asked me questions that I really should have anticipated but had forgotten about in my haste and worry.

"Are you all right? Will it heal? Does it hurt?"

Gwyn's little face was filled with compassion, and I looked around I saw it mirrored in others.

"Yes, I'm all right," I said, forcing myself to smile, but it wasn't that hard when I was surrounded by my family, "I don't think it will heal, at least no time soon. And it hurts, but not too bad."

Gwyn reached out and held my hand in sympathy. I appreciated it. 

"They must have wrapped Caliban in chains of Cold Iron," Merwyd said, "that would keep her from doing, well, anything. It's the same thing used to capture Pureblood criminals to keep them from utilizing magic."

"Nothing we can do about it for now," I said.

"Should we run or should we fight?" Mother asked with her typical directness. She knew the difficulties of entering the castle as well as I did. As mother asked me the question, however, Adewyn gave me a peculiarly intense look.

"We fight," I said, "we have no choice. The more time we give him the more Bayrd will kill and the more his forces will grow. That is what he meant by time favoring his army and costing ours. And then he'll just pick us apart as we run. The more time we're near to Marche Grodayn the more likely that we can think of a way to get to Bayrd."

I was having difficulty focusing due to the intensity of my pain and sudden fatigue. 

"Mother, you're going to protect Gwyn and Artan tomorrow. I have no one else I trust and you know how to kill anything that gets close to them. Adewyn, you already know this but you're in charge of all maneuvers tomorrow. If I make it out there I'll just be for show and magic. Make sure everyone knows not to expect me. Merwyd, do whatever you can to help Adewyn, but be aware that Bayrd will be hunting for you specifically from high up in Marche Grodayn. He'll probably be in the men's sanctuary since it has excellent sight lines and will give him cover. Next to me you're the most powerful mage here and you definitely have superior skill and control so I know you can help."

"All right, love," Merwyd said, smiling at me and taking Gwyn's hand, "I'll do what I can. Be careful."

I caught the scent of her fresh from the bath and longed for more time with her. With all of them. With Raisa, especially.

Before they all left I had one more thought. 

"No one sleep in the same place tonight. Find somewhere else or just get new tents set up. We can't assume that they won't try again."

Everyone nodded and left. Adewyn and I were alone.

"Raisa's alive I think, but she didn't want us spreading the news around. I found this in her tent. I read it but I probably shouldn't have."

It was a small piece of hastily folded paper with very familiar writing on it. It had my name on it but I wasn't too upset that Adewyn had looked.

"Finn,

I have a chance to pursue the surviving Seyla back to wherever they exited from the castle. With luck I can slip in with them and help tomorrow. I hope you and the others are all right.

I saw that one took Caliban away in chains. I almost saved her but then I decided that maybe I could do something about that as soon as the battle starts tomorrow. If I can't get to Caliban, then I'm going after Bayrd. You wouldn't want me to but you know that it's what you would do so don't be a hypocrite.

Please keep this to yourself. I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to say goodbye. 

I love you,

Raisa"

"Fuck!" I was finally frustrated enough to be visibly upset. Losing my eye was one thing but I couldn't handle losing Raisa.

"I thought you'd be happy," Adewyn noted.

"I'm happy she's alive, or was to write this letter anyway. I'm less happy knowing that my pregnant wife is in the enemy fortress with a diabolist who would like nothing more than to torture her or worse."

"Finn, am I wrong or does she intend to do something specific tomorrow morning?"

"You aren't wrong. She was vague here but I think I know what she intends."

"So you won't be seen by the army at all? That will be bad for morale."

"If things go as I expect them to, they'll know I'm fighting alongside them even if I'm not in front of them, precisely. Things will probably be pretty loud and obvious. How are the wards doing?"

Adewyn smiled.

"The Seyla that Bayrd hired aren't as good as our Raisa. Some soldiers on the line noticed some men acting suspiciously and thought they were possessed so they sounded the alarm and killed them before they could do more than erase a few lines. The wards were repaired to full power before mages even showed up."

"I'm guessing that tomorrow he'll try to erase them all at once and overrun us. It would explain why we haven't seen any flying bastards lately. He's saving them for one big push."

"Finn," Adewyn said gently, "let me worry about that. You can't carry everything on your back. Merwyd can cover the magical side of things, and you know she's been thinking about what to do if the wards fail en masse. Do what you have to. Now rest, I know you spent time with Merwyd tonight, and you've lost a goddamn eye."

"Hey, it's not gone, just broken," I said, laying back down and trying to ignore the deep pain in my face, "I've got one spare left in any case. Good night, wife."

"I'll wake you before things start. Sleep well, husband," she said, blowing out the lantern. 

When she left the last light left with her.

* * *

The battle would be today. This would be the end. The attempted assassinations from last night might make our victory possible, although I hadn't really planned it that way. We could not take the castle by siege. Not with that army of howling madmen between us and it. 

I woke to Adewyn standing over me, gently touching my shoulder. My head ached as if I'd been hit by a boulder. I was alive and able, and perhaps our enemies thought that I was incapacitated or dead.

I sat up and made a noise rather like that of a surprised pig. The pain was...impressive at first, but it lessened quickly. My concern for Raisa made the pain seem much less important.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Finn?" Adewyn asked. Her tone was...afraid.

"Part of me does not. Part of me just wants to go out with you and fight that army of the damned with my own army behind me, but we both know I can make much more of a difference elsewhere."

She sighed.

"I don't want to be a widow, Finn. I don't want Artan to grow up without a father. I don't...I don't want to have to answer to Bayrd. More importantly, I don't want cry over the grave of my dead husband because he decided to be a hero. Do you understand me? I won't forgive you if you die. I can't. I'll hate your fucking ghost forever," she said, making no attempt to conceal her tears.

"I'm coming back, Adewyn," I said with confidence that I did not feel, "I'm afraid, and I don't want to go, but I have to kill him. I have to kill him so he can't get to you, or Artan, or anyone else."

She sighed, but then she smiled. It was grim, but it was real. There was belief in it. Belief in me.

"This is why I am proud of my husband. I...I have to go lead the other battle, although I'd rather be going with you. Good hunting, Finn."

She kissed me once, intensely, and then turned and walked out like a goddess from the old legends. Even this close to death and danger, I was still distracted by her ass as she left. Gods help me but I loved that woman with an intensity that was almost frightening to me, even now.

Dammit, I should have asked her to send me some help. I had to do this next part quietly. I didn't want anyone to see me but I wanted some of my things. And I wanted some things from Raisa's tent too. I was wondering if I could really sneak around the camp like some sort of cut-rate Seyla when my saviors arrived. 

"Bartles! Gwyn!" I really was pleased to see them besides my need for help. Gwyn ran in and I gave her a big hug.

"We're just stopping by, before we go and stay near your mother," Bartles said. She was obviously nervous but it mixed with a certain confidence that made her more attractive. Sometimes it was difficult to be married. "I...I can fight a little too now, and the things don't seem to like my magic one bit. It kills them fast."

"The power of the Wyld is pure and strong," I said, glad that she'd be there do help my mother with defending Artan and Gwyn, "I'm sorry to say I need some help with something if you have a moment."

"We'll help!" Gwyn volunteered for both of them.

"Wonderful!"

I sent Bartles to my tent to fetch my old mercenary armor and the short sword that I wore before I found Caliban. I wanted protection today but I didn't want to wear a shiny breastplate or anything that would draw extra attention. I sent Gwyn to Raisa's tent for some of the little bottles I knew she kept there, full of the potion she gave me to rid me of fatigue after I nearly died that night many years ago. I figured she'd need the energy after being up all night. I probably would too.

They both came back shortly with everything I'd asked for. I hugged Gwyn again and thought about having Bartles deliver a message to my mother, but she already knew that I loved her.

"Bartles, thank you for taking care of my family. This won't be forgotten."

She blushed adorably when a slight green tint.

"Come on Gwyn, we need to get back, the sun's nearly up."

They left, and I could see the light peeking over the horizon. I drank one of the flasks while I waited. It's acrid taste belied its quick effectiveness. I had to be ready, because we all knew that once the sun rose, we'd be under attack. I wished my family and my army the Goddess' luck and the Gods' protection. Then I felt it.

Raisa had been successful. I answered the call and disappeared.

Before this the farthest I'd ever been called to Caliban was across the camp. Even then I'd managed to see just a flash of something. This time, I had a longer look. Truthfully it was much longer than I had wanted. I was flying but I wasn't entirely myself. It felt like I was lighter, and less coherent, as if I was made of a cloud. But that wasn't the disturbing part.

What I saw was a black, rocky desert. There were rolling hills but many had their tops sheared off at odd angles, as with an enormous blade. Sitting on some of them were things that looked like pale towers, if towers grew like fungus. It seemed to be night, with a starless sky. Hanging there was a single great red-orange flame, circular and oppressive. It was a sun, but not ours. Rather I recognized it immediately. It was the single light of the Sitra Ahra, from where man fled when things went wrong. It was the Tyrant Star which gazed over Belial's Realm. 

Those who made Caliban must have known to traverse this place, and use it to travel quickly in our own plane. I'm not ashamed to say that it frightened me to be there, and my fear only heightened when I saw the strange crawling figures on the hillsides. Were they demons? Or were they the last descendants of the poor humans who couldn't make it out? Things like the Karrash but even more changed by this unwholesome hell. Thankfully, I spent no more time there.

I appeared next to a very surprised guard who holding a blade to my sister-wife's neck. This did not amuse me and he died quickly as his blood turned to ice. The man behind him turned to run but was propelled much faster than he intended, slamming into a wall and falling prone and unmoving. I recognized where we were. About halfway up the western tower, near the living quarters of my family, in an area meant for secure stores. The stone here was a familiar old grey of mountain granite, worn after many centuries of constant use. I was amazed at how nostalgic it made me. 

I looked at Raisa and took her head in my hands. She was kneeling, and looked tired, a small scratch on her forehead bleeding freely. She was sweating all over. Gods she was beautiful.

"Are you all right?"

"I am now," she said, smiling and standing, before frowning worriedly and touching the side of my face with great care, "but what happened to your eye?"

I ignored the question.

"What the fuck is the matter with you? Running off and coming here? By yourself!?"

She opened her mouth to reply but I didn't let her. I found to my surprise that I was very angry with her.

"I can't believe you. You're pregnant! And you're running around like you're Andraste returned to the firmament! You aren't immortal, woman!"

Her mouth dropped open in shock, and she looked like she might cry for moment, then I could see her grow angry and ready to shout back, and then she looked over my shoulder to see more men-at-arms standing in the hallway, some looking at their fallen ally while the rest tried to figure out who Raisa and I were and whether they should arrest us.

"Listen you bastards, just wait over there! I'm not done...hey!"

Raisa rolled her eyes dramatically and ran towards them, effortlessly and acrobatically rolling between them, a previously unseen blade flickering out and cutting throats and arteries. All of them died rather messily but she ended up on the other side of them, untouched and clean.

"Get your pretty little ass back here, wife! I'm not finished admonishing you. You are insufficiently admonished!"

"So you're saying you think I'm pretty?" was her only reply before she turned and swayed away, a smug little smile on her face. 

"Gods dammit is this how you feel whenever I do something stupid? Ugh!"

I heard her chuckle as she rounded the corner. For once, I had to run to keep up. The worst part was that yes, I did think she was pretty just then. Very pretty.

Gods dammit.

* * *

In my haste I had forgotten to call Caliban to me, so I did so, apologetically. She expressed some discomfort to me, in the manner of someone trapped in a small space with quarreling lovers. I blamed Raisa but she reminded me that Raisa had heroically rescued her and made my arrival a possibility.

Women always stuck together.

Raisa was waiting for me, up ahead in a small room that was used by the servants as a place of worship. I entered and shut the door behind me, the candles within casting strange shadows behind the many idols and symbols set up on small altars around the octagonal room. She looked at me, arms crossed, but calm.

"Are you done?" she asked, her eyes narrow.

"Yes. For now."

"Good," she said, staring at my bandaged face with real compassion, "now what happened to you?"

"I had to stop some Seyla from getting at Gwyn and Merwyd. The latter got a little banged up but Gwyn is fine. In the process I appear to have lost the sight of my left eye. Might end up getting the vision back or I suppose I could end up losing it if it dies completely. The priests weren't sure and I didn't have time to recuperate properly."

Raisa looked so sad when she embraced me, but I oddly didn't feel too bad about the loss. I probably just had too much on my mind to care about at the time. Later I would be annoyed at my reduced vision but it would never truly grieve me. 

"I'm sorry, Finn, that's awful. I should have...I don't know, maybe if I had stayed..."

I sighed.

"If you had stayed we'd be in a worse position than we are now. Much worse. The fight is going on now, and hopefully Adewyn is doing well. Unless I miss my mark she's going to be feinting or even trying some assaults on the castle walls today. As it stands all we really lost in the attack was an eye. You're alive, as are the rest of my family. I can be bitter about this later I suppose, but for now, I can still fight, and I've got you if I need more eyes, Raisa. Oh, and I brought you this."

I handed her one of the little flasks full of potion that she used to stave off fatigue. She drank it down, eagerly, then she stepped back and smiled. How did she look so good right now? She was worn out, sweaty, and bleeding a little, but also amazingly sexy. Her fiery red hair was stuck to her forehead, her green eyes bright. The flush on her cheeks made her look even more alive and appealing and her lips seemed even more full. I couldn't take my eyes off of her. The way her tight leather pants held her ass didn't hurt, and gods if her breasts hadn't started to get bigger. Her swelling belly was barely visible through her shirt, and that both aroused and worried me even more.

I leaned in and kissed her, really kissed her, like I was going to fuck her. I almost did, but she pushed me off of her, laughing.

"Finn, calm yourself! We're supposed to be taking the bloody castle!"

She was smiling though, and had her hands on my chest. I understood. I was holding her waist and I didn't want to stop touching her either, or put her in danger, but this fight would require both of us. I took a deep breath and re-focused.

"All right. We both know I'd love nothing more than to have you wait somewhere safe but there isn't anywhere like that and, to be honest, I won't be able to do this without you. Just...please be careful. Please. I couldn't stand it if you died. It would make any victory taste like ash."

"Finn..." she said, looking at me with genuine adoration, "All right. What do you need me to do?"

"I have to fight Bayrd myself, alone. Not just because I want to kill him personally. I'd be happy if you did that. I just have a strong feeling that he's found a way to gain true magical ability on par with mine, through his new friends. I think he's doing most of the summoning himself. I have a hard time seeing him trusting any mage enough to call up things like that. And I have to believe he has protections against Seyla assassins, given what kind of man he is."

"I agree."

"Good. So while I'm doing that, I need you to keep the rest of the castle off of me. If it gets hairy enough I won't even be able to call up enough attention or magic to protect against arrows. If you can open a gate, or even just convince the garrison that they need to defend somewhere else, then that would be ideal. If it comes to it, and I die or am captured, I want you to flee. Get everyone to safety if you can, if you can't, grab Artan and Gwyn and run by yourself. You have the best chance to escape and protect them."

"Finn...don't...gods don't say that. And I couldn't abandon my sisters or your mother...or even Bartles."

"You can if you have to. You're strong and smart enough to have reached these decisions on your own. I just want you to know that its what I'd want. Also..."

"That isn't enough grim talk?"

I sighed.

"No, Raisa, it isn't. I did some talking with Octavius recently, over some beer after I taught him warding. It turns out he served at the Temple of the Law before he became a healer. I wrote up a new succession, in case I pass away. It puts Adewyn as High Queen, then you, then Merwyd. The order isn't based on ability, or love, because I think you could all do it, but on who is most likely to be accepted by the army and people. This isn't a regency, but a full succession. If I survive we can restore the original and make Artan heir or we can try to change the way things are done. I just needed you to know, in case."

She was stunned. At first I was worried that she was offended that I'd made Adewyn the first heir. It hadn't been an easy decision. But, it turned out, she was just moved. She hugged me.

"I knew you were better than the others. Adewyn and Merwyd know too, but I knew even when I was small. I knew that you had magic in you too, but that wasn't important. The way you treated your mother, Adewyn, Merwyd, and me, even as a child, it was different. I knew it."

She took a moment to compose herself and wipe her eyes. I did the same. I guess she wasn't done though.

"If you die, though, I'll never forgive you. I'll hate your ghost forever, I swear it. And I'll make sure your tomb says 'Finn the Lusty' in big letters, with an unflattering engraving of you."

I laughed, despite myself. Before I could say more, she kissed me again.

"I'm off, love. Bayrd's in the men's sanctuary, like we thought he'd be. I'll draw the garrison's attention elsewhere and see if I can kill some of his mages on the way. Good hunting."

And she disappeared.

"Good hunting, Raisa," I said, hoping that she could still hear me, "you are the love of my life."

I'd never play favorites, never intentionally, but I was closer to her than anyone else. There was no sense denying it. Being separated from her now was far worse agony than losing my eye could ever be.


	26. The Pure of Blood

I decided to wait a few minutes before I got started. My patience was rewarded by shouts and running bootsteps. After a while, all was silent. Raisa had done well with whatever distraction she had chosen. I wasn't surprised. I set out.

It was a strange mix of nostalgia and fear to be here again. I was constantly on guard, waiting for more guards, Seyla assassins, or even demons. There weren't any. There were servants, however.

I saw them and they saw me. There was no doubt. There were three of them, two maids and a footman. I recognized the footman and all three of them recognized me. I couldn't place the maids, not yet. I had decided before I came that I wouldn't kill anyone who I didn't have to. The question here was one of necessity. These people were no danger to me, individually, but they could talk. They could tell guardsman, mages, or even Bayrd himself.

The footman's eyes grew large with fear. I honestly had no idea what kind of rumors or "official" information might have made it back to him about the things I'd done, or was blamed for doing. And here I was, in my worn armor, left eye bandaged, carrying a spear. He looked to be about to run. 

Then the maid to his left grabbed his arm. She was much shorter than he, and couldn't have stopped him with force, but he looked down at her in surprise. What she whispered to him, I don't know, but he looked back at me, differently, almost reverently. 

As I grew closer I recognized the maids. One had cleaned my rooms fairly regularly. I thanked the gods that I had been polite to her and remembered to give her Saturn's Gifts every solstice. The other...the other had had been Merwyd's handmaid. I hadn't recognized her in the dour black uniform. She was clearly demoted after my sister's escape. 

As I walked past the footman bowed and the maids curtseyed. Merwyd's handmaid smiled at me. 

"Thank you," was all I said to them as I passed. It was all I could to for their service and help. Later I would have to find other ways to reward them. I had two other run-ins with the staff. The first one went much like this, and second one featured a young page boy who ran into a closet in terror at the site of me, closing and locking it. 

I told him that I would not hurt him and to my surprise he opened the door, hesitantly

"Are you King Finn?" he said.

I laughed.

"We'll know for sure soon."

"They said you were coming! Watch out upstairs. Lord Bayrd has...his things...hiding there, in the shadows. He no longer trusts men to guard him, only monsters."

I nodded, grateful.

"Come find me or my sisters when this is over. We'll find some way to reward you for your loyalty. Now be off with you and do your regular duties. Don't want you raising suspicion about yourself."

After this last encounter, I stopped a moment and...I don't know...just listened to things. I'd been afraid before, but that was natural. I was afraid before every fight, and this one was important. But now that I was really paying attention, there was an aura of fear about the place, and it was getting worse the higher I went. This wasn't simply me. Bayrd had brought the unnatural to our home, and it was taking root. Gods damn him.

I finally reached the steps that had featured so prominently in my dreams and nightmares for years now. Here was where mother had led me up, gossiping with me and chastising me to be respectful. Now I was in the broad hallway, and I could see the great doors to the men's sanctuary up and to my left. They stood open. I watched the shadows. 

There. One, to my right, flattened behind the tapestry and with many legs like a great spider. And another, above me, crawling on the vaulted stone ceiling. They struck at once, in concert, like some monstrous wolf-pack. 

I struck faster, white fire spraying from my hand, above and then to my side. The things, hairy with midnight-dark carapaces and green eyes, died screaming almost like men, which made it all the worse. The smell of them burning has never left me, and reminded me of the waste behind an alchemist shop. The fire lit up the rest of the hall, and I saw no more lurking things. Well, I wouldn't have the advantage of surprise any more, if I ever truly did.

Flashes of lightning and deafening thunder rocked the hallway, but I was not under attack. It came from the sanctuary. Bayrd was no doubt raining the fire of the gods down upon my allies and family. I stepped in, Caliban raised defensively in front of me.

Bayrd stood there, facing away from me, at a window overlooking the lake and the battlefield. I wasn't fooled into thinking that he was unaware of me. I was walking almost silently, but he still turned to face me when I was thirty paces away.

I felt a wave of nausea, similar to that that I had felt in the cave on my journey. I shook it off. For a moment I thought I saw...no. No, it was only Bayrd.

"You look well, uncle," I said, keeping my voice as neutral as possible. He did. He'd lost the belly fat that had plagued him in his late adult life, and he looked stronger. In fact, he looked younger. His beard and hair were near solid black instead of a mixed white and grey, although that could have been dye. But he no longer sported a bald spot, and the wrinkles had vanished from his face. He had been perhaps fifty-eight when I had left, but looked five years older due to his manner of living. Now, he looked like he was in his early forties. Even his teeth looked whiter. 

"Thank you Finn. You don't," he said, laughing, "but you do look stronger. Commanding. You've grown into yourself, lad."

I stood still, holding Caliban as one might hold a staff. He had a sword at his belt but he had made no move to ready it. He moved to his left, walking in such a fashion as to face me without the window at his back, but not closing the distance.

"How did you get in here, boy?" he asked me, at last, "I can't say that I'm entirely surprised, but I did try to take that spear away from you to keep you from doing your trick of appearing anywhere it is. It's a shame that I had no time to learn its secrets. I closed all of the old secret ways, except for a new one that I had built after your little trip to the lake."

"Caliban is a woman, and we have an understanding. A few chains of cold iron weren't going to keep us apart, not when she missed me so."

I wasn't going to be telling him the truth of Raisa's presence. It tore at me that she was here in the first place and I wouldn't do anything to endanger her further.

He laughed.

"I missed you, Finn. I won't enjoy killing you. I do promise to treat your mother and sisters they way they like, even if does cause some tears. I'm sorry to say that Gwyn and young Artan will have to be drowned for the sake of the new succession, but we can't have fresh rebellions, can we?"

He probably was telling me the truth. He would keep as many of the women alive as possible, even if he intended to simply use them as breeding stock. He would almost certainly kill my children, although to himself he would justify this as "being practical". He was telling me to unsettle me with both his knowledge and intentions. Bayrd wanted me angry and stupid. I couldn't really blame him for trying. For all his knowledge about me, he hadn't spoken to me since my much more impulsive and immature days. I was still capable of great rage, but it was a cold rage, measured. He would learn this soon enough.

"I mean, sure. You're going to do this and that. Rape women and murder babies, make a dynasty of your own. I hear your words, but I don't believe them. I don't believe them because I'm still alive. I always got along with you better, but I see now that father was the right choice as heir."

"Why? Because he was born five years before me?"

"No. Because he knew how to lead. And, for that matter, give women pleasure. I'm not really sure you ever figured either of those things out."

That touched a nerve. Bayrd drew his sword. 

"You used to be more respectful," he said, as its blade turned from dull steel to an impossibly dark void. That was a new trick.

I assumed my stance. Right foot forward, left foot back. Caliban loosely held in both hands, her blade held proudly high, pointed towards my enemy.

"My mother used to have a right arm. Things change."

There was a much more distant rumble of thunder. This time it came from the now-grey and dark sky. Bayrd smiled.

"Soon the rains will come. Not the light rains of spring but a torrent. My friends taught me how to do that. It will be enough to wash away many of the wards. Not all, but I imagine it will be enough. Then the dead will get inside your lines and your men will learn what it is to be consumed. Unless you spare them this fate by surrendering..."

"I'm not sure that would spare the kingdom the same fate. The army is more dedicated to my cause now that they've seen the alternative."

"Nonsense. The dead are a tool. And I might add, a tool that will make the new Cymru even stronger."

"Is that really what you think? Did they promise you that? Or have they simply been obliging or easy to manipulate. You and I both passed the trials, Bayrd. I've never thought you stupid, and I don't now, but these things...they aren't foolish or simple. At least the ones who lead them aren't. At some point they'll turn on you, and make this world like our old one."

"No. I have them well in hand. They devour crumbs because it is all I will allow them, and it is more than they've had in centuries. I don't even call that many. They can be commanded, and those that aren't simple, as you put it, have taught me many secret magics which put me at least on par with you. And they have restored my youth and strength."

Lightning flashed again in the distance. I had no idea if this was from the clouds or from a mage, but the room was lit up, for just a moment, as if it were in brightest sunlight. There, behind Bayrd. I saw it clearly. A tall figure, impossibly tall. Ten feet? Twelve? Harder to tell with one eye. Skin black and wet as pitch, frame muscled and well-proportioned, as if in mockery of men. No mouth, nose or ears but eyes scattered everywhere on its body, hungry and searching. Then it was gone. 

I wondered if it was really here or only in spirit. I wondered if Bayrd was truly aware of it or not. I wondered why it seemed so familiar to me. Bayrd noticed my distraction, and took the opportunity, as any good combatant would.

I narrowly blocked the dark magic, green light washing off the pure blue-white of my shield, then moved right, circling him again, trying to get his back to a window. After a moment I pushed him hard with a wave of force. I didn't expect it to work precisely but I did expect it to be hard to block.

Instead, Bayrd seemed to cut it with his sword, and his clothes barely fluttered, although an idol to his right crashed to the floor. Dammit.

He pointed it at me and I felt deep pain starting in my chest before I walled myself off with greater magic. He'd been trying to kill me the same way I'd killed Tyr, and rather than be subtle about it, he had simply overwhelmed my shielding with his power, which was tremendous. I knew then what the figure behind him was doing. As I channeled the magic of my world and emotions, it was providing its own unclean energy to him.

Was there a limit? If so I imagine that I would break before Bayrd reached it. But he wasn't as skilled in its use, hopefully.

I threw lightning at him. Powerful, but diffuse. He protected himself and the energy coursed around the room, filling it with thunder and blinding light. Not incidentally, it poured out of the windows. Anyone below would have been able to see it and know that it wasn't directed at the battle on the ground. That was a big part of why I did it. If there was enough evidence then perhaps the men would know that I was fighting alongside them.

While the remnants of the flashing light lingered, I threw a stream of fire at him, which he blocked, barely, via deflection into another part of the room. This gave me an idea. He had power but his reaction time was limited by his skill. For better or for worse, killing with magic was part of my nature by now. I followed up with Arrows of Light, curving the projectiles slightly to make them slightly more difficult to intercept. He still did so, but he backed up a step.

I kept up the assault. I didn't try for a single killing stroke but fought ceaselessly, without rhythm or style. Caliban provided defense by drawing on my strength, and at my request she deflected rather than stopped many attacks. In this manner I kept him off balance and I could see his face reddening with the effort of keeping up with me. This required effort on my part but I was far from tired.

A wave of force pushed him back two paces. He countered but it his lightning went wide. He was where I wanted him to be. I threw fire and he deflected it away from him, but he had a solid stone idol twice his size right next to him this time, and some of the fire and heat was reflected back at him. He yelped in pain as his right arm and face were singed. First blood to me.

He abruptly changed tactics and moved towards me with preternatural speed. Apparently this new vile energy he drew did more than make him young, it made him better than he ever had been. Before I could do more than throw a bit of lightning at him he was within striking distance with his sword. Now that he was close I could see no blade at all, just empty darkness. 

My weapon was longer but he was faster. He darted in so the tip of the blade was a threat to me then struck and faded back away. I had some practice with my spear so I was able to keep a good distance, most of the time. 

Because I did not understand the nature of the blade, I tried to avoid blocking or parrying, but eventually I had no choice. I was pleased that Caliban's blade easily knocked aside Bayrd's without visible damage, but I felt a wave of pain emanate from her core. She projected to me a deep sense of profound cold and...absence. The void of the outer dark. 

Realizing that his attacks were picking up in speed rather than slowing, I attempted to throw fire at his feet. He bounced away, spinning and landing with a flourish. He was showing off now, playing with me, or at least trying to convince me that he was. The old Finn would have lost his temper here and died. I kept my head so I would live at least a little longer. 

I decided at this point to see if I could stop his source of power. Presuming that the thing that I had glimpsed earlier was providing a channel of some sort to him, I began to search the room for it. Unsurprisingly I failed to see anything. I was distracted enough that I failed to notice that Bayrd was closer than I thought. The tip of his blade carved a shallow furrow in my chest as he passed. I grunted in surprise and pain. I'm surprised I did not scream.

The cold was intense, and radiated off of the wound, which did not bleed. I knew that had I looked down then it would have been covered in frost. I felt my heart slow for a moment before it picked back up. Gods, would any of this be simple? 

"Ha!" Bayrd shouted, just as a child winning a point in a pretend fight with wooden swords might. 

I took the moment of his triumph to thrust Caliban forward and at the same time throw fire to where I thought he would have to move to. It worked. His trousers and the lower part of his shirt caught fire and his already-injured hand was burned again. For the briefest of moments he shrieked and cursed, before the fire went out entirely, the life sucked out of it.

Bayrd's eyes were wild now, crazed. I had hurt him, twice, and he knew he was due to skill, rather than power. I began to draw more heavily on the power of air, given the heights we were at, anticipating needing it to deflect a new magical assault. It was only because of this that I survived.

I felt the air, and was briefly pulling on it, drawing it within me. I had trouble, however. Resistance that I wasn't familiar with, and not from my opponent, or near him. Behind me there was a void of energy that I could not draw from. No, two voids. I moved to my right, diving to the floor. Because of this, the clawed hand narrowly missed me.

Two winged monstrosities were there, either one could have been a sibling to the thing that maimed my mother. Had they been in the room all along? I doubted it. Had he brought them forth now, as we were fighting, that quickly? I feared that the answer was yes.

If so, and he could call more at will then he had simply been playing with me. I was just a bit of sport before he crushed my army and made my sisters his own. I had to believe that there was some limit, either in total numbers or the amount that he could draw to our world at once, or else it was all for naught.

There was no more time for thought. The creatures leaped at me, cautious enough to fear my spear and cunning enough to try and flank me. Bayrd was concentrating, clearly about to attack me. I stood and barely knocked aside his volley of green energy, staggering. As I did I narrowly dodged the claws of the thing to my right as I held the one to my left at bay with Caliban. More green energy impacted my defenses, and I felt them cracking. Caliban sent fear to me, not for herself, but for me. I realized that she was panicking. She had probably seen previous companions die in this fashion, perhaps even to magic identical to this.

I could not keep this up, I needed space. I threw a great deal of ice at both monsters and before it hit, I hit it with a burst of lightning and fire. Mist and steam billowed out around me. I couldn't assume that it would stop the creatures that had no visible eyes, but hopefully Bayrd was relying on sight still.

I stepped back and thought, reaching out again to the power of air, this time just drawing a trickle. I felt for the voids that I sensed earlier. There they were! One of the monsters came at me directly, assuming I was unaware. I ran it through with Caliban and it died immediately, collapsing in blue sparks and gray, rank-smelling ash that made the room smell of noxious rot. As I had suspected, Caliban was made for killing such things, and she did a fine job of it. I felt satisfaction bloom within her. The other withdrew briefly, doubtlessly waiting for Bayrd to assault me. The mist was clearing, fast, but Bayrd wasn't waiting. I saw green lights flicker through the fog as he sought to kill me blindly. 

The room was large but there was limited space, so I thought it was a possibility that he could. I moved swiftly to space that he had already attacked and began to draw more strongly on the magic of air, expanding my senses to the entire room. I couldn't sense Bayrd, but I detected a disturbance that could have been him, moving, breathing. I still sensed the void of the remaining demon.

There! Next to Bayrd, there was a void, but it was gone again. And again! Just a flicker, just a moment, as if the thing could only truly be here for brief moments in time, or was observing then leaving rapidly as a means of protection. I cast lighting at it but by the time by spell was complete it was gone.

"That was a wide miss, boy," Bayrd said, then laughed, thinking it was meant for him.

Green energy arced over my shield, causing me pain like a torn muscle, an ache deep in my body. I was fading now. The vile magics that Bayrd was using were more draining than I had thought. I tried to think, keep steady. The thing flickered in and out at regular intervals. I could track that, fairly easily, even distracted. It was just a matter of timing, like dancing, and I'd always been a good dancer. The physical position was the tough part. 

Green flame buffeted my shield in a stream that Bayrd kept up. He saw me and was dedicated to using raw force to destroy me now. As I desperately held my place I tried to focus, and also ignore the demon creeping up on me, slowly and cautiously.

Wait, there! The void had appeared in a place that it had been before! I saw it, the pattern. I struggled to hold the torrent fire back as I memorized it.

In front of me and to the left. Then far behind Bayrd. Then close to the door. Then immediately outside one of the windows. Then to my right. My outstretched hand began to singe and burn.

It was time to act. The flying demon was close now, within striking distance, just in front of me and to the right. I feinted left and dove right, under its claw. Bayrd kept up his stream of green flame and it washed over his creature, incinerating it. I threw Caliban as I fell, calling upon the strength of desperation. Bayrd moved his hands so they pointed at me. His flame sputtered, then died.

I was a little early, as it turned out. The thing had materialized as Caliban passed through its space, and the weapon designed to kill monsters interacted with the creature that was Bayrd's conduit to other realms. The thing screamed. It was not a cry of a man, or a beast. It was the grating of a rusty blade on an old shield, or the sound of rocks splitting during an earthquake, or ice breaking in the sea. It made me more frightened than I have ever been in my life. I saw it clearly again, solid, but floating in the air. It did not die as men do, nor did it turn to ash as these lesser creatures. It simply faded away, like mist before the sun, leaving Caliban triumphant.

But it was gone, and with it, Bayrd's endless reserves of power and skills. I stood up as he aged and stooped, clutching his chest as if in pain. He went to his knees, although I do not think it was precisely meant as submission.

I walked towards him, drawing Caliban to my hand where she seemed fairly hum with grim delight at serving her intended purpose so well. I kept my guard up.

He raised his hand as if to draw magic, but when nothing happened, he turned it into the open palm of surrender and peace. He was an opportunist even to the end.

There were no witnesses and I've never spoken of what happened, but I will tell you, as perhaps you may find it important. At one time, after I had lost my hatred but when I still thought Tyr could be cured or "corrected" in some manner, I might have shown my brother mercy, had my sisters been forgiving. Bayrd was not mad, in my opinion. His decisions were poor, but he had acted on his own selfish desires. Father had turned him from a friend to an enemy, but he alone had decided to prey upon his own sisters.

He opened his mouth to speak, doubtlessly to explain to me why I should show him mercy. I had thought of many reasons, some of them even good. 

He was, however, a monster who would never stop hurting women. And neither Caliban nor I can abide monsters. 

As I thrust forward with Caliban, her blade slipped into him with ease, as one would into a familiar lover. I withdrew her from him and gouts of blood and steam poured from the wound. He collapsed in a heap and curled up slightly. There wasn't even a single twitch or motion of breath after that. 

You may have heard that rather than be captured he killed himself by cutting his own throat or throwing himself out of a window. You may have heard that he tried to use magic in a last ditch effort to kill me and that I was forced to slay him in self-defense. You may even have heard that I tried to take him into custody for trial but one of my sisters or my mother, angered by the crimes they had suffered at his hands, murdered him in a rage.

I allowed these rumors to spread, although I was sure that they would be disbelieved by most if not all of my subjects.

The truth is that I had considered this moment many times over the prior months. It was good to always have the plausible cover of alternate events, but I also wanted all to know that I was as ruthless as my father, and more so if needed. Cross my family, and you will die, even if I once called you uncle, or brother. I will do it with my own hand if necessary, in a sanctuary of the gods. And unlike Tyr, I will succeed. 

This act of murder was also a statement, and an old one. As my ancestors said to those who would be their subjects after bringing them to heel with primal destruction: "Kneel, for the Flame is my Friend and the Lightning my Brother. I am of the Pure Blood."

* * *

I left to inform the castle that the war was over and assist Raisa in any way I could, but in fact the entire valley knew that Bayrd was dead. His allegiances with the demons were personal. He was both the negotiator and the gate. With his life ended, the unnatural could not remain here.

The screaming started not long after that. Howls and cries that men hadn't heard in at least a thousand years if not more. The wails of the damned returning to their doomed home in the Sitra Ahra. The screeching of defeat and death. Belial would not be victorious this day, and his armies collapsed, rotting in the field.

The war was over. Now to let everyone know.

When I found Raisa, Marche Grodayn had already surrendered to her, which I think she found most flattering. The marshal of the castle saw the end of the battle outside and he was unwilling to fight to the bitter end for a man he feared rather than respected. The guards I met were quick to lower their weapons. The slaughter I had anticipated never happened. There was but one successor now, and he stood before them, with an army outside. 

Within a half hour the gates were open and my troops occupied Marche Grodayn. Everything felt strange and new and wonderful. But something was missing. Eventually, in the abandoned western tower we found Cedyr, Raisa and Merwyd's mother, and Seigaldia. The former was overjoyed when she saw that her daughters were alive and well. The latter was pleased to be released and happy that Adewyn was well, but her smile disappeared in my presence. I'd killed her only son, and no amount of justification on my part nor defense by her daughter would change that fact. Mother arrived soon with Artan and Gwyn, and seeing them brought her smile back. I suspected that she would at least maintain civility with me, if only for the happiness of her daughter and grandchildren. Adewyn told me that she would never seek revenge, and that she supported her son but not the things that he had done. I'm not sure how she made the distinction, but I wasn't going to complain. In the past such old grudges could lead to betrayals or preemptive killings, but I wanted to try a new way. Hopefully, it wouldn't backfire on me.

When I met Raisa's eyes I knew that I had to bed her right away. I'll not write of it here because there was no pretense or foreplay. We went to my old rooms. I loosed my cock as she pulled her pants down and had her from behind. It was not rough or emotionless, but quick and full of need. We loved each other and each of us was happy that the other was alive. We celebrated as she shuddered and trembled and came on my cock as it filled her with my fluid. It was over quickly, but necessary, somehow. Her surrender to me was the final victory of the day. I felt as though it was a rite of old, Raisa being the goddess of spring and I the lord of the underworld, my seed planted in her already fertile womb. I was only able to hold her briefly before I had to get to the business of being a king worth my name. 

If I regret one thing about this day, it is not spending more time with Raisa. The duties of kings and queens are never-ending, but love is when you find it.


	27. The Future

We burned the bodies. All of them. We did it swiftly and there were no complaints from the army for having to do it immediately after their victory nor from the relatives of the dead. All simply wanted the threat to be gone and forgotten. Merwyd and I assisted with magic as much as possible. The ash was used to fertilize our fields, as the temples commanded it should be. Thus the dead would be returned to life in defiance of the way that they had been defiled.

It would take years to resettle the empty land, but my people would do so. There would be attempts to maintain inheritance of property when possible, but otherwise we'd make grants to landless folk and ensure that some of them were skilled farmers. As it turned out, most of the fields were producing crops as early as the next year. A few even managed to harvest winter wheat. The death toll was not enough to truly damage the kingdom, but it did cause impoverishment that led to suffering. I considered the restoration of prosperity to my people to be my first trial of leadership.

I was astonished at how busy victory made me. There was a coronation, but I had control over it so it lasted about five minutes. Everything else was honest to gods work. Assigning new offices, figuring out who needed to be exiled, executed and imprisoned (this was fortunately a short list), reading reports on what, precisely, was actually going on in various corners of Cymru, receiving oaths of allegiance from my vassals and respect from foreign delegations. Throughout it all, my sisters and mother assisted and were quite understanding.

Mostly.

I'd been maintaining a bit of a breakneck pace for a week solid. I'd been sure to check in with each of my family members after the battle and throughout the week, showing affection and making time when they came to see me. Unfortunately I did not have any real time for sex or sleep. I assumed my wives would understand why this was necessary. After all, once immediate needs got squared away, and promises to all the people who assisted me on my journey were fulfilled, I could get to my responsibilities with my family,

I assumed incorrectly.

I only realized it when I noticed my many functionaries, half of which had always worked at the castle and half of which had been transferred over from my army, left the room that I had converted to my temporary chamber of government. It was all very coordinated, and I briefly considered that I was about to be assassinated. I prepared myself.

Instead, my mother and Adewyn entered, and they looked serious. I was not prepared for this, and this time there was no convenient window to leap from.

"Mother. Adewyn. You're both looking lovely today."

"Don't try and charm us, Finn," Adewyn said, her eyes stony.

"All right, no charm. What do you need?"

"We need you to take your position seriously, son," mother said, firmly, but not angrily, "and attend to your more important responsibilities."

I looked around the room at the scrolls and parchment filled with the various requirements and actions required of me. The decisions that I thought required my personal attention. The petitions from my people harmed during the war. The endless payouts and gifts and tax relief and donations for services rendered. Establishing funds for my aunts to live their lives as free women, unbound to men in my family. Building hospitals and homes for veterans who could no longer care for themselves. The process of getting Bartles a knighthood.

"I rather thought this is what I was already doing," I said, making no attempt to hide my annoyance, "does this look like my bloody idea of enjoyment?"

In my defense, I hadn't had enough sleep or sex. I hadn't even really taken time to recuperate from my eye and wounds sustained from battle with Bayrd, although I was healing.

"We're all pleased to see you take this on, but you could delegate some to your officers and family," Adewyn said, gesturing around her. "We are not less important than your other duties, and you seem to have forgotten everything related to tradition in your immediate quest to prove yourself better than Bayrd."

Pureblood women guarded royal tradition and custom. I knew this, from my lessons. I'd seen some of it when Artan was born. Truthfully, however, I had no conception of how deep it went nor how much power they wielded, at least when someone like Bayrd wasn't in charge. Before I responded I considered my position. I could appoint people to make many of these decisions. Merwyd could handle much of the administrative streamlining as she was trained to do so, and filter the most critical items to me. Mother could receive diplomatic missives and do likewise. Adewyn could handle the military and Raisa was more than capable of being my spymaster. And I had a host of both young and experienced bureaucrats eager to serve my will.

I took a deep breath. I didn't want to fight.

"I felt that it was very important for these early days to not repeat the mistakes of Bayrd. Or father. I need to be aware of what is happening in Cymru to keep her safe. To keep you safe. To ensure the legacies of Artan and Gwyn and my child with Raisa."

"We know, son, and we are all honestly impressed, which is why we didn't approach you sooner," mother said, "but you have a series of responsibilities, no less important, that you have ignored entirely. Some of which should have been completed days ago. And while your functionaries may not be telling you about it, I can assure you that the women of the castle, the lesser nobility, and even the cities and fields are paying attention. These are matters discussed in taverns across the kingdom, and when done properly will make you appear more legitimate than any amount of proclamations ever could."

I sighed and sat down, too exhausted to fight them. 

"All right. Sit down. I'm listening."

They sat. While I didn't disagree with anything they were about to say, I will state that I did feel a bit like a defeated general agreeing to demands.

Mother remained rather formal but Adewyn smiled at me, warmly. I got the impression that she had expected me to fight her. I also realized rather suddenly that she was leading this delegation, and would be the guardian of tradition of this generation of women, much as mother had been for the latter. Wonderful, something else to argue over. At least I knew that she'd take it seriously.

"Don't look so glum, Finn," Adewyn said, "we're here because we want you to succeed and be happy. You haven't been resting enough, and you know it. No-one but your wives, and perhaps Octavius, would be brave enough to tell you that, however. You better than anyone know that it is wise to consider the needs of your family first."

I forced myself to relax.

"Go on."

"For starters," Adewyn said, "there's Raisa."

I sat up, worried. Had I missed something? Was there something wrong with our baby?

"Is she all right?"

Adewyn laughed.

"She's fine. If she wasn't so utterly devoted to you, she'd have been in here though she shouldn't have to be. She's the First Wife, Finn."

"Um...yes?" I agreed.

"Have you underwent the Compact? Has she had her Bridal Night? None of the rest of us can until she does. Has she been given any of the traditional gifts? Have you even spoken to her for more than five minutes at a time since you took the castle and had your way with her before dismissing her like barmaid after a drunken tumble?"

Adewyn could be insufferable when she was right.

"Now wait a minute, I didn't have a lot of time but I never just tumbled her and kicked her out. I love Raisa! And how the hell do you even know about that?"

She ignored my question.

"We know. But you need to show it a little better. So, tonight you rest, because gods help you if you fall sleep on her Bridal Night before she's truly well-fucked. Tomorrow will be your compact day, where you will pledge yourself to her and make her the appropriate guarantees, then the Bridal Night. What are you planning on giving her?"

"Dammit Adewyn, I must have some secrets."

"Humor us," mother said.

"It's still not here. For Raisa, I was having a silver and green crown made. Not something very formal, but more like a tiara. It was In the shape of entwining ivy and set with sapphires to offset her eyes. The gems are old Pureblood treasures, they warn and protect from danger, and can even call forth weapons. Deceptively simple but beautiful and dangerous, like her. I had it commissioned before we came south, but haven't been able to even find out if its complete yet. I have things for all of you but some won't be done for gods know how long..."

It was true, I had given it a lot of thought and had ideas for all of them. A sword for Adewyn (cliché I knew but I was having one made to match Caliban in style and had a sage reading about how Pureblood artifacts were made to see if we could enchant it in a similar way later), a cunning silver arm for mother which would give her a measure of function (and again I later hoped to enchant for further use), and a cabinet with many books in it for Merwyd (truthfully a library as it was enchanted to hold much more than its size should allow, stocked with the kinds of books that she'd been telling me she wanted to read since we were children together, including grimoires and books from the old world).

Both mother and Adewyn nodded appreciatively at my choice for Raisa.

"Good, Finn, but don't wait. Have the night for each of us and give us salt and honeyed bread, as is traditional."

"That...seems a little underwhelming. I wanted this to be special for her"

"Don't worry," Adewyn said, "we know that you want to give us more. This has happened before. Give the traditional gifts and then just tell us about the other ones. These things take time, sometimes women don't get their 'real' gifts for years after the Bridal Night. The important thing is that you've given it thought and you want to spend time with us. You do want to spend time with Raisa and your other wives, don't you? Or have you tired of us already"

"Gods. I'd pay almost anything to spend a half hour with any of you right now. And I don't just mean making love. Just talking and relaxing with no one trying to murder us sounds like heaven."

"Well, then, this is good news," Adewyn said, smiling, "Merwyd is taking over royal business as of now and for at least the next days. You're going to go rest and then tomorrow morning show up outside Raisa's rooms. We've got the whole thing planned out for you, so don't worry."

I was worried. I was fine with spending time on things that my wives deemed important to them, but if Adewyn decided to have a day full of traditional rituals neither Raisa nor I would be happy. 

In any case, there was nothing for it. If I wanted to maintain peace in my family, then this is what I had to do. I agreed and left for my rooms. I felt exhausted and empty, as if my motivation had left me with the end of the struggle. For the first time in six years, I had no plans to fight anyone, and I suddenly realized that I had come to expect it as other people think of their craft. I missed it, and that made me feel a bit sick. I ate some bread, drank some wine, and then slept like the dead.

* * *

My new footman, the lad who'd hit in the closet from me a week ago, woke an hour or two after dawn, which felt like the most decadent luxury after all the time I had spent in the field. To my surprise, I found an entire black and forest-green outfit already picked out for me. Fortunately, the clothes were relaxed with clean lines that made me feel a little more serious. I looked like hero from the old romances that all of my sisters loved, although some denied it, and I thought Raisa would like the way it fit me. There was even a comfortable eyepatch.

I appeared, as requested, outside of Raisa's rooms. All I had with me was a small parcel carrying honeyed sweet rolls and salt. Several maids slipped out of the door, giggling at the sight of me and for a moment I was worried that I didn't look as good as I thought. I realized suddenly that I was almost as nervous as the first time I had been alone with Adewyn, many years ago. I laughed at myself and knocked.

I expected a servant to open the door, given that this was a somewhat planned occasion. Instead, Raisa was there, looking...amazing. She, too was dressed in semi-formal shirt and pants, but unlike the sharper edges of my clothes, her green shirt and black jacket hugged her curves, drawing the eye to her small breasts and the subtle swelling of her belly. I'm sure that some men find their wives less appealing when they are pregnant. I am not one of those men, and this made her even more desirable to me. Her bright red hair was braided up in a complex fashion and she was wearing...cosmetics? Her green eyes were lovely and smokey in a simple way, her lips a slightly brighter red, and her cheeks just barely rosier. She'd never worn any with me before, and the effect combined with her outfit was stunning.

For a moment we just stared at each other, unaccustomed nervousness reflected in our faces. Then I smiled, and she giggled charmingly and blushed a little. I leaned into kiss her, but she held her hand out, a mischievous grin on her face.

"Oh no, Finn, we mustn't have any of that," she said, mimicking Adewyn's commanding tone with remarkable accuracy, "no kissing or embracing until past noon and no lovemaking of any kind until twilight has passed. Anything else would be simply unacceptable!"

I laughed despite my disappointment.

"Well," I said, holding up the parcel "at least you'll have some lovely breakfast."

"Hmm, tempting, but I'm not allowed to eat those until you've 'sowed your seed within me'. Those are her exact words. I think maybe you've given her too much power."

Raisa took the parcel and put it in her apartments, then came back out and took my arm.

"Shall we?" she asked.

"I would be delighted to go anywhere with you, but I will admit that I have no idea of our destination."

"Oh, it seems like no one has told you anything at all," Raisa said with false innocence that fooled me not one whit, "well, that's a shame. I guess you'll just have to do as I ask. All day. And night."

She smiled up at me and I could not resist smiling back, despite my slight frustration at being unable to take her right then and there as I suddenly wanted to. She led me down a series of stairs and hallways which might have been confusing to some, but were amongst the most commonly used by us as children. They led to the courtyards, where we often played, and the old grottos of worship with their idols of divinities long forgotten, and the marshaling yard, where we practiced with sword and magic. Below that was the women's sanctuary, where Raisa would disappear to towards the end of her pregnancy.

"I haven't been down this way since we took the castle back," I said, feeling the pull of nostalgia as I began to recall bits and pieces of old memories. Tyr and I had a fistfight in that badly-lit corner, although afterward we were fast friends again. Over there was the tutoring room where I overheard my teacher tell father that I was skilled at magic but lacked any sort of real power. That old storeroom was where Merwyd and I used to meet in secret to kiss. I felt her up there for the first time, my hand on her breast and her's holding it there.

"I know," she said, "and I think that's why Adewyn had us come down here. Do you remember the Garden of Andraste?"

"I do. I ended up cleaning it for six months as punishment for sneaking out of March Grodayn to flirt with women in town."

Raisa snorted.

"You did more than flirt, Finn. We're lucky we're not drowning in your bastards at this point."

I ignored Raisa's provocative remark.

"I also remember that while I cleaned, I would catch a small red-haired thing watching me from behind bushes and in the trees. Eventually she came out of hiding and started to help me with my work and tell me about all manner of things. I pretended to be annoyed but I began to look forward to that every day."

"Really? I always thought that I was a nuisance, but it was so nice, having you to myself for a few hours. And you really listened and asked questions." Her voice hitched a tiny bit. "I think that was when I really fell in love with you."

She held my arm a little tighter and I was very aware of her soft, firm body pressed against mine. I wanted more than that. 

We arrived at the Garden we had just been discussing. It had some rather exotic fruit trees, limes and oranges, surrounding a small lawn of moss, with a stream passing through it. There was a fine white linen laid on the ground for us to sit upon, and food and wine laid out. It was cool outside but it never truly became cold here due to the ancient enchantments of our forefathers.

We sat and ate and reminded each other of the events from our childhood. Of times both better and worse. 

"I knew early that I shouldn't be alone with Tyr or Bayrd," she said, suddenly.

"Really?" I said, dreading in my heart the reason why.

"Yes. I was small and quiet and paid attention. I saw Tyr with Adewyn and how when he wanted something he'd just grab her. I saw how Bayrd watched your mother and mine, and Merwyd, so hungrily and without any love. That's why I ended up around you so much. At first it was just because you weren't dangerous."

I sighed without thinking.

"I'm glad that nothing...like what happened to them, happened to you."

"I didn't mean to bring the mood down. I just...you know, wanted you to know that I knew then. That you were good and decent and safe. Even if you were a bit of a whore."

I was drinking wine as she said the last bit and I spit it out, laughing.

"You did that on purpose, you brat," I said, leaning towards her to hold her and perhaps tickle her a bit. 

She wagged her finger at me like a teacher with a naughty child.

"Ah! No touching! Adewyn said." 

"You've been touching me," I pointed out.

"I'm allowed to hold your arm and such. You're not allowed to do so much as embrace me. I'm sorry, but I don't make the rules."

Raisa's eyes glinted with merriment at my frustration, and I must say that she did not look sorry in the least. Seeing my disappointment, she took my hand and stood up. 

"Come on, we have to go do the next part. It's over by the grove."

We'd been in the Garden for over an hour but it had seemed like minutes. I was, unexpectedly, very much enjoying myself. Well, not so much the restrictions on my behavior. I thought it would have been quite nice to have made love to Raisa in the place where we'd first begun to truly bond.

Raisa led me to the Grove. Trees, pines and aspen, were left standing here from when the castle was built. They were never touched out of respect for the ancient and unknown gods of this place. They were huge, easily a hundred paces high, and surrounded a pool of water that was always clear.

When we arrived I saw that there was, incongruously, a couch for reclining. On it were towels and small scrolls.

"This is where we do the Compact," Raisa said, picking up one of the scrolls and handing the other to me. Both had been sealed, one with the sign of the King's Wyvern, for me, and the other with the sign of the Queen's Leopard, for her.

We broke the seals and read the words to ourselves, quietly. It was the first time either of us had seen the words.

"Is this it?" I said. There were only a few lines, and I memorized them immediately.

"It is," Raisa said, suddenly removing her jacket and shirt, "but we must do it sky-clad, in the pool."

Raisa smiled at me as she stripped down the rest of the way. Not for the first or the last time that day, I was struck by her beauty. She was still quiet young, and girlish in her fashion, but in transition to the maternal. I am not a poet, and I cannot describe how this affected me properly, only that it seemed that I loved her more each time that I saw her. As I took in her glory, she dove into the water, sleek and fast, swimming out to a rock out in the center which allowed one to stand up.

I tightly controlled my expectations. It was not yet noon so I wouldn't be allowed to so much as kiss her, much less do what I wanted to do to her in that perfect blue pool. What I increasingly felt as need rather than want. 

I took off my clothes, and made no attempt to hide my manhood standing proudly. Raisa didn't even pretend not to look, and despite the cool water her cheeks flushed and her lips parted slightly. Her desire was building as well. I dove in and swam out to her, less graceful but plenty strong. I had always been a good swimmer. The water here was warm due to the magic of the mountain. As I reached the rock something occurred to me.

"Do you remember when we all used to swim out here together?"

"Of course!" Raisa said, excitedly, "We'd come out here and have water fights and our parents would leave us alone, for a little while."

She blushed a little, and I knew why.

"Do you remember when we were out here alone?"

"N...no..." she stammered ineffectively. She was always the cutest when flustered.

"Let me remind you. I came out after a long day learning the sword, which mostly meant getting beat up by Adewyn. I wanted to soak so I wouldn't be too sore the next day. And I caught you out here, swimming like some kind of water nymph, wearing almost nothing at all. Do you know why I remember that?"

"Because you saw how scrawny and bony I was?"

Raisa was embarrassed, but she had no reason to be.

"No, because it was the first time I saw how beautiful you were. I mean, you were always pretty, that was obvious, but I never thought of you as a beautiful young woman, with curves and hips and...amazing breasts, small or not. It shook me a little, since up till then were always my cute little sister who I loved and felt protective of. After that day...well. It felt different after that whenever you cuddled up to me and wanted my arm around you. I felt a little guilty of pulling you so close after that. I never told you because I never wanted you to think that you couldn't just be with me as a brother and a friend. If I'm honest, I think I started to love you then, although I buried such feelings deep within."

I realized that I had never shared that with anyone, except Adewyn.

"Oh," Raisa said, turning bright red. She reached out to touch my face and caught herself inches away. I could tell that she wanted to kiss me a great deal. She was truly gorgeous in her want.

I decided to say the words of the compact, right then. I'm not sure why. It just felt right.

"Sister, you who are most beautiful and cherished to me, who lights the night as the evening star and the morning as the new sun of spring, I declare this to you my Compact. I will love you until death, and will never allow harm to come to you. You will stand above all others, first in my heart, first in my bed. I will take you and make you mine."

My breathing was ragged by the time I was done saying the words. I felt my heart racing and the familiar feel of magic drawn into myself. The words had power. She spoke, smoothly and with love, in her soft way.

"Brother, you who are most handsome and precious to me, who guards me as the wolf protects his mate and pleases me as the moon favors the sun, I declare this to you my Compact. I will love you unto death, ever faithful and true. You will stand above all others, first in my heart, first in my bed. I will make of myself a gift to you."

We moved close to each other, instinctively, our bodies nearly touching, our lips inches away, before we pulled back, barely. We were frustrated, filled with passion and denial, aching for each other, our bodies demanding each other and it wasn't even noon yet.

Since we couldn't do more, we swam and played, splashing each other, laughing, remembering past adventures and mistakes. I had a lot of the latter and she remembered all of them, but miraculously it only seemed to increase her affection for me, as if my flaws somehow improved me. For my part, I remembered every time she had been adorable or unexpectedly kind, all the injured animals she brought home and cared for or the times she stood up to one of us over how we treated a servant or commoner, and how many times I had been proud of her for such acts.

Eventually we grew more serious, our shared looks more intense, and I think both of us knew that if we continued we'd end up making love right there and then, regardless of the rules. We got out in silence, watching each other with heat, then we toweled each other off. It may have been cheating, but we weren't quite touching each other. Then, we dressed, regretfully. 

Despite being unable to touch, I felt closer to Raisa then I ever had. I felt the magic of the compact settle on us, and we were bound together more deeply than ever before. 

"Where to next, love?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"Lunch, finally." She said, smiling at me. 

Noon at last. I knew she was looking forward more to the kissing than the food, because I was as well.

We arrived in the marshaling yards, which I thought was a rather odd place for food. They were simple, fenced areas used for training and military purposes. They also held the stables, which is where we were actually headed.

Two horses were already saddled for us. One, I recognized was an old favorite of Raisa's, and it seemed to have some loaded saddle bags as well. The other was, shockingly, the horse I rode away on the night of my escape. She seemed none the worse for wear and whinnied a little as I gave her nose a rub. Then we both hopped on and I followed Raisa down the narrow and curving siege corridor and out the gates. 

We rode for about a half hour. I was hungry but not overly so, and it was pleasant. We started on one of the main roads that went past the castle town, and then turned off twice until we were on barely more than a game trail. Oddly, we passed several people on it, common folk, most of them older and with packs and walking sticks. They got out of the way and bowed or curtseyed with respect, so they evidently recognized us.

With a shock I recognized the trail. I had last seen it in the dim light of the moon as I was slowly bleeding to death. It was the same trail that I'd used to confuse any pursuers. Eventually we came to a small clearing. It had been here before but it appeared that the area had been cleared of larger plants and a small open shed was there. Upon getting closer, I realized that it was not a shed but rather a shrine. We dismounted, so this must have been our goal.

"Oh gods," I said under my breath as I finally understood what this place was.

Raisa laughed, warmly.

"You surely cannot be surprised, not after all that has happened to you," she said.

I walked up to the shrine and read the sign that had been crudely carved and stained to preserve it.

Finn's Way - Here is the Path That The Rightful King Took in the Night of His Escape, Long May He Live. May He Return Soon.

"How long has this been here?" I asked in wonder.

"It went up almost immediately after you were revealed to be alive. I don't know who made it, and as far as I know I was the only one who tracked you. I came out here to investigate it at Merwyd's insistence. The only thing that we could figure is that someone saw you that night and kept their mouths shut for a long time."

"Whoever they were, they probably died," I said with regret, "I would have liked to have at least bought them some ale or whiskey."

"Possibly," Raisa said as she started to unload food and wineskins from her saddle bags, "but a surprising number of people from the valleys escaped to the mountains when Bayrd started ordering villagers killed. They remained there for months, until word got to them of your return and victory. They've been trickling back."

She handed me bread and we ate it in silence. It was simple but fresh, very good stuff. The wine, too, was excellent. It was from the red grapes that grew on the mountainsides that faced the sea. Rich and full of flavor and slightly sweet. I had just finished and turned to ask her a question when she kissed me. 

It was sudden but gentle. She didn't reach out to hold me, and just as it deepened she pulled away. I instinctively chased the kiss, leaning forward, but she ducked away, giggling. 

"You're enjoying teasing me far too much," I muttered.

She ignored my remarks.

"So those were pilgrims that we passed on the trail," she said, in her best tutor's voice, "it is believed that if you pray at the shrine you can restore your virility or gain good fortune for your family. Because everyone knows that Good King Finn is both lucky and lusty."

"Oh dear gods," I said, truly embarrassed.

We ate as the pilgrims we had passed arrived to pray at the shrine. It was a bit surreal for me, and only got more so as an older woman approached me, her eyes full of uncertain emotion.

"Sire, may I touch you?" she said with undisguised reverence.

I looked over at Raisa and she shrugged. Neither of us expected this.

"Um. Of course you may," I said, sounding much more certain than I was.

I needn't have worried. She merely brushed her fingers against my shirt sleeve. Raisa looked as she might burst out laughing until the old woman turned and asked permission to touch her jacket. 

As she began to leave, Raisa stopped her by holding her arm, then went back to the horse and got more bread and wine out, which she gave to the old woman. For a brief time we passed out food and wine to pilgrims, and they touched our clothing and one young lady even asked Raisa to bless her. We spoke to them and they told us of their families and losses during the war. They never asked us for any material aid but we passed out some coin that was in the saddlebags.

We watched as they left, and Raisa reached out and held my hand. I looked over at her and she was, to my surprise, crying.

"Are you all right, love?"

"Yes, Finn. Being here...brings back some memories. And these people have so much faith in us. It's overwhelming."

"I guess I'm lucky. I remember pain and fear, but in the grand scheme of things it wasn't the worst. In fact it was the first time that things let up a bit for me. Of course I had no idea that I was being tracked by an assassin."

"Lucky that you were, else you would have died. Bayrd told me to find you and kill you, if you were still alive. He said that you'd tried to kill Tyr and fled. I didn't believe it, but even if it was true I didn't want to do it. I still can't believe that I..."

She let go of my hand and looked into the woods anxiously, as if expecting a monster to come out at any moment.

"You can't believe what?" I prodded, gently.

She sighed.

"I can't believe that I had my knife to your throat before I stopped and thought about what I was doing. I didn't want to do it, I hated the idea. But I hadn't really decided not to until right then, when my dagger touched your skin. You didn't notice, but you had the tiniest cut, and I realized that I had drawn blood from a man that I told myself that I loved. I couldn't even think, I was so disgusted with myself. Then you woke up and took my blade away. I decided not to resist."

She looked me in the eyes, turning to face me and holding both of my hands in hers. She opened her mouth several times to speak, but nothing came out. Her eyes grew sad.

"I know," I said, and kissed her. I pulled her to me and pressed her to my chest but forced my hands to behave. There, in those woods, as midday passed into afternoon, I felt new. 

We walked for a time, holding hands, this time discussing the future. What we would name our child, how we should raise them. Where Raisa would like to go for our first anniversary. How she felt about continuing to serve as spymaster. None of this would particularly interest you, but it was nice and good and proper to speak of these things as husband and wife, rather than just relatives or lovers. Hours passed but they felt like minutes. We were lost in the world of each other for a time. 

We left around mid-afternoon, riding back a little faster. Raisa was supposed to be monitoring the time, apparently, and she had let it slip by. I had no complaints. We went back to the marshaling yards, and left the horses. 

Raisa looked up at me.

"Thank you for a really amazing day. I know you don't really have time to spend with me right now, so it means a lot..."

"I should always have time for you, lovely. Maybe I don't make enough time. I'll change that."

"All right, I have to go and get ready for dinner. Meet me down in the Red Room at twilight."

Huh. Hadn't expected that. I wanted to go check up on the business of the realm but I knew that if I showed up in any of the governmental rooms that there would be hell to pay, so I decided to go back to my rooms and maybe read a bit. There was a note waiting for me on my favorite chair.

Your bath is ready and your evening wear will be laid out for you when you are done.

As much as I was enjoying this day, I truly hoped that the evening would be less regimented. Regardless, I followed my instructions. I bathed, found some much finer evening wear, still simple blacks and greens, this time with a jacket of the sort I had seen father wear at formal occasions. I arrived exactly on time, although I still felt bad for not having Raisa's true gift ready. I opened the door and was surprised, in the most pleasant way. If her outfit today had been attractive, the one tonight was divine.

I was suddenly very glad that many months ago I had recommended the green gown and not the golden one.

It had been modified slightly, the better to provide comfort for her expanding belly, but other than that, it was exactly as I had imagined it would be, if not more so. The bust was low and plunging, making it appear as though she would fall out of it at any moment. The bodice itself was transparent lace everywhere save some strategic locations for the sake of 'proper modesty'. It was long but constrictive so her hips and curves were shown as she moved or shifted. It made her look more like a creature that flowed rather than walked. And every step she took opened the slit on the side that went nearly to her hip, exposing pale thigh that I needed to touch soon or I thought I would go mad. Earlier her hair had been intricately braided, but now it was down, smooth and straight, falling to her shoulders. A simple silver tiara held it back.

"You look..." I started, momentarily at a lost for words.

"Ridiculous?" Raisa said, obviously nervous.

"I was going to say devastatingly beautiful and dangerously alluring. I've never imagined such a vision. I know it is in your nature to be humble about such things, but you look amazing. I rather want to take you right here and now."

She blushed.

"Finn! There are other people here!"

"I hadn't noticed."

I hadn't, but there, in the middle of the carpeted floor was a small table before a fire, appointed with delicacies that both of us preferred. There were two servants, who I recognized, one with wine and the other, presumably, to serve food. They did not react to my inappropriate speech, because they were consummate professionals.

I walked around and pulled Raisa's chair out for her. She smiled appreciatively and sat down. I wasn't the sort to behave like a gentleman and she wasn't sort to prefer one, but it was a nice novelty for both of us. I walked back around to my side and sat down. On cue we were served warm spiced wine and food was placed in front of us. I was surprisingly hungry. We ate together and spoke of nothing, laughing at silly jokes. Eventually a comfortable silence settled on us.

"I almost asked Adewyn to change the room," she said, "because of what happened here. But then I thought about the day as a whole...and I think that's why Adewyn had our dinner set here."

"What happened here?"

She sighed with a little trepidation.

"This is where we met when it was revealed that you were alive. I had orders to kill you already, and I knew that Bayrd would be sending others so I had to leave soon. Before that, I knew that I needed to meet with at least Adewyn and Merwyd before I left. I wasn't going to reveal anything yet, I just needed to know where they stood. I had suspicions, but I hadn't trusted anyone, not really, since you went out the window. The meeting didn't go well."

"Why not?"

"Merwyd wanted to take Gwyn and get somewhere safe, and then reach out to you. It wasn't really logical and eventually Bayrd's people would have caught up with them. Adewyn wanted to go find father and get him to pardon you and, maybe, remove Tyr as heir and exile Bayrd. Merwyd then argued for all of us leaving together, knowing that I cared for her and Gwyn, and then father would be forced to go along with us if he wanted the family line to continue. Adewyn argued that we would all be traitors and that father was certain to kill you, Finn. They both looked to me for my opinion. They both knew that I had a crush on you long ago, but I'd made myself appear cold to you, if not hostile. Despite this I think that they knew I could be persuaded to help you. But I ended the conversation there."

"Why?"

"Because their plans were terrible. Both of them would expose all of us to retribution and neither would truly help you. By the time we got Gwyn out or found father (assuming that he was alive), you would be dead. I realized that I had to act alone, and I didn't want to lose my cover yet so finally I told them that I had orders to kill you, and that I intended to carry them out. They could do as they wished but I warned them not to interfere. I appeared to be very serious about it, which was easy because I couldn't stop thinking about the killers looking for you even then. Then I just disappeared. To their credit, Merwyd looked like she was about to try and stop me with magic and Adewyn was ready to tackle me to keep me from going, but I was gone and neither of them understand how to counter Seyla arts. I left and I found you in Troyes and tried to save you but I underestimated my enemies. You know the rest."

I smiled at her, took her hand and kissed it.

"What was that for?" she asked, smiling.

"For saving me, so many times. For going it alone when there were safer ways. For risking everything for me for over five years. For believing in me. For carrying my child with love and devotion."

She flushed and it was visible on her face, down her neck, and to her almost exposed bosom. 

"Are you done with dinner?" she said, with a slight quaver in her voice.

"I am, although I hunger for other pleasures. I fear that you may not get much rest tonight."

She laughed, smooth like water flowing down a stream, then stood up and walked with effortless grace over to a door that she opened and entered. I rose slowly and followed, closing the door behind me. It was of only moderate size, but it had what we needed: a fine and comfortable bed with many pillows, some wine and other refreshments on a table near to us. There were some delicacies on the table: oysters, chocolate, and foxberries. They were all aphrodisiacs.

"I know why Adewyn chose this room," I said, with a sly smile spreading on my face. 

"Why?"

"This is known as the Crimson Room. It's traditionally where Pureblood women were stripped and then deflowered on the bed. Typically by one of their brothers. It could be tender but it could also get pretty intense."

"Oh," she said, simply, her flush spreading as she looked at the bed in new context.

I stepped behind her and put my arms gently around her waist, then I put my mouth to her ear.

"I still think about the night that I took your innocence, you know. Its a fond memory of mine when I'm feeling lonely. Perhaps tonight we're repeating the process, but as a sacred rite."

She made a noise deep within her throat. A murmur of desire and anticipation.

"Am I to be an offering upon the altar? Are you the Horned God tonight? Does that make me your prey?"

"Yes," I whispered in her ear.

I began to unbutton the back of her dress, deliberately delaying after each button, taking the time to build her desire. Her breathing was getting more ragged. When I was done, rather than take her dress off right away I ran a single finger from the base of her neck to the small of her back. She shivered, then rolled her shoulders forward and the dress fell from her body like an emerald waterfall.

She spun and stepped away slightly, so I could take in the view.

Seeing Raisa like this was a revelation. She wore a fine brassiere and panties of transparent black lace from the continent. With her firm and swelling breasts held up and the red hair above her mons highlighted rather than covered by her small clothes, she took on a new appeal to me. She had a shining silver chain around her waist, and wore a single anklet that matched it. They stood out on her pale skin and flashed in the candlelight and both were hung with tiny bells that chimed slightly when she moved. She had always been beautiful and desirable, she was also now exotic and full of mystery.

Raisa knelt before me, like a concubine-slave from the old stories, the chain around her waist showing her status as my property, my woman. She had read the same books I had, so she must have known the effect it would have on me. She put her fine and delicate hand on my cock, stroking it gently on top of my pants.

"Can I have it now, husband?" she said, her voice the little girl I grew up with but full of the promise of carnal pleasure. She pouted after she said it, as if I had been denying her some delicious desert.

"Of course, wife," I said, my own voice deepening with want. I needed her now, and she knew it.

Raisa locked eyes with me as she unbuttoned my trousers. She did so agonizingly slowly, then finally reached inside and drew my hard cock out. For a moment she nuzzled against it, kissing it and placing it against her cheek. It was the most erotic view I could have imagined. 

She took me in her mouth, sucking me in as though I was the most delicious thing she had tasted all day. I put my hands on her head, in her soft hair, but she required no guidance from me. She knew what I needed, and what she wanted to provide. It became evident to me almost immediately that this was no warm up. She wanted to draw the seed from me and drink it like wine.

Raisa manipulated the lower part of my shaft expertly with her small hand while she took me swiftly and deeply into the tight wetness of her mouth, her tongue moving in patterns that drew moans and groans from me, almost against my will. She responded with moans of her own, and I realized that she was touching herself even as she pleasured me, which I approved of greatly. I was close. She began to push me to the climax, and then drew back off of my cock.

She looked up at me, her old mischievous grin on her face.

"Did you need something more than that, dear brother? You seem a bit frustrated."

"Raisa, you cruel little thing, you know what I need. I need your lush lips wrapped around my cock. I need to you to drink my seed. I need you, dammit."

She smiled deeply and sinfully.

"As you wish, husband."

Then I was back in her mouth, and she continued to work me like that. She'd take me fast and then deep, and even into her throat, and then as I was about to cum, she'd slow down again, keeping me on the knife-edge of pleasure and tension. Every stroke became the most excellent torture. Then she stopped again and I wanted to scream.

"Your precum tastes delicious, brother. I've always loved all of your many flavors."

"If you don't finish me soon I'm going to go mad, Raisa. I can't take much more of this."

"Hmm..." was all the reply she made as she took me into her mouth again. 

"Raisa, oh gods. Oh gods, I love you, so much. I'm..."

I didn't make it any further. I began to cum, and I think even Raisa underestimated how much I would give her. My cock pulsed again and again, sending my seed deep down her throat, filling her petite mouth, until she could not swallow fast enough. My cock came out of her mouth and painted her face with several ropes which dripped off of her chin down onto her fine and flawless breasts. Finally, l was empty.

Raisa giggled, always playful.

"I must look quite a mess right now."

"You look...amazing to me. Seeing you marked with my seed like this makes me love you all the more. Stay right there, I'll clean you up."

I stripped the rest of my clothing and went to a nearby basin, moistening a towel. I spoke a word and heated it, then brought it back to her. I knelt beside her, and slowly, gently, with great care, I wiped my seed from her face and body. Each part that I cleaned I kissed. When I was done I kissed her on her beautiful lips. I tasted a bit of myself on her lips, but it just reminded me of how well she had pleasured me.

"Lay down on the bed, wife and part your legs for me."

"Oh. My husband is so firm and commanding tonight," she said. She obeyed my instructions, laying down and making herself open for me. I climbed on the bed, and found to my delight that her lingerie had no crotch, and thus gave my tongue access to her most precious places.

I leaned down slowly, taking the deep scent of her musk. Her panties and crotch were soaked. I wondered how badly in need she was.

"Finn, please. I can feel your hot breath on my quim. Gods...you know you drive me wild already, you don't need to be meeeeaan..."

She drew out the last word the same way as she used to when I wouldn't let her eat part of my sweet roll or when I picked her up and wouldn't put her down. I suppose that her need was great, as I wasn't even trying to tease her.

Not yet, anyway.

"Don't pout too much, love, or I might have to stop. Wouldn't want that, would we?"

"No, husband. Don't worry, I...I'll be good." Raisa looked at me, and her smile said that she wanted to be anything but good.

"Will you cum for me?"

"Oh gods yes, Finn. I'll cum so very hard for you. I need your....oh...oh gods..."

As she spoke I kissed my way up Raisa's soft, smooth inner thigh, to her labia, then tasted her softly up to her clitoris, which was just exposed by the open panties. I hovered over it and slowly kissed and licked around it, making her gasp. She ran her small hands through my hair and wrapped her thighs gently around my head. 

I began to kiss her lower lips passionately, tasting every flavor, letting my tongue dart inside her. Her breathing sped up. I began to lightly lick and kiss around her clitoris, and her exhalations turned to whimpers and my name being spoken softly. I inserted a finger and, to my surprise, she came for the first time. It wasn't large, but her quim gripped me, her back arched, and fresh fluids bathed my face.

I kept it up, inserting another finger and varying the pace, plunging it in her and building her up then letting her calm down again. I licked her clit, but very gently, gradually raising her tension. Soon she was beyond whimpers and into moans, and then she was pushing my face into her crotch and writhing beneath me.

As I began to speed up my fingers, she started making constant noise, whimpers to moans to sighs to squeaks when she began to peak again. Now I stopped varying and kept the pace up, while I paid a great deal of attention to her clitoris. I knew she was cumming by the new liquid that I felt rushing over my hands and face. 

"Finn! I...I love you! Gods, how are you...."

Then there were no words. She screamed, loud and hard, back arched, hands pushing my face into her crotch as she still ground against me roughly, legs clamped hard around me to keep me where I was. I felt her stomach fluttering and her small body vibrating. At last, it ended and she relaxed her grip on me.

I sat up as she fell back, limp and panting, a soft sheen of sweat all over her form. Her arms outstretched to her sides, her legs parted, one foot moving over my chest, as if she wanted to stay in contact with me. I moved up her body and she kissed me eagerly. She must have tasted herself on me but it did not bother her. Eventually she lay back down and I leaned against the headboard for a bit, running my hand through her hair, just happy to have pleasured her.

I was about to ask her if she needed to rest when she noticed my cock was hard again. She bit her lip, then gave me a crooked little smile and rolled over onto all fours. She laid her head down on her pillow while turning her head over her shoulder, giving me a smoldering look. 

I did not need further invitation. I got behind her, running my hands down her sides, slowly, keeping my cock close but not entering her. Raisa looked at me with falsely sad eyes, gave her butt a little wiggle, as if to remind me of what I was supposed to be doing. I laughed.

"I could never deny you anything, sister," I said as I slid inside her. She felt amazing as always, and she whimpered as I bottomed out. I took hold of her hips, firmly but gently and she moaned, knowing what was coming. I began to fuck her, long, slow strokes, completely filling her. 

Raisa groaned, loudly. I'd never seen her get that aroused that quickly.

"It feels so different...now. Oh gods...what...what are you doing to me..."

It did feel different. It had from the beginning but I assumed that was all from the mutual teasing and frustration from being unable to touch or kiss or fuck for much of the day. Now that I was paying attention, I felt the magic that had settled on us, enchanted us. It was not some false compulsion, no, it was more like there was cloud of mist over both of us, and it connected us. When I was inside her or we were pleasuring each other, the gentle vapor turned to a storm-head, and it was as though there some great fire between us, raising our level of mutual awareness and arousal.

I could almost feel Raisa as she was feeling me inside her, and she must have felt the same. It was a loop of pleasure, of love, and right at that moment it was making it difficult for me to focus. I sped up, filling her faster and faster, desperately trying not to fuck her too hard, reminding myself that she was carrying my child. This only aroused me further. I growled, deep in my throat, involuntarily. She began to let out little exhalations and high-pitched but soft cries each time that I filled her. I groaned and moaned with each stroke.

"Finn...oh gods...when you make those noises...I...oh gods..."

She came, violently shuddering under me, her little fists grabbing handfuls of the sheets, her loud cries echoing in the small room. I kept fucking her, faster and faster, as her orgasm went through her like ceaseless lightning. I felt my cock bathed in fresh fluids. She cried out again and again, shaking and pushing back against me, fucking me even as I fucked her. I felt her love, truly felt it as her sweat-slicked body impacted mine. I was close, but held on, barely, slowing down a bit.

I realized then that I was tired, much to my chagrin. How long had I kept that up? It felt like mere moments but could have been much longer. Raisa looked back over her shoulder at me.

"I want to be on top to finish you, love," she said, her eyes half-lidded in pleasure, "I want to give you what you've given me."

I gladly left her and lay down. She rose slowly and straddled me. 

"Gods, Finn, look at how wet you've made me," she said as she rubbed her slit over my cock, getting revenge for my teasing. I moaned loudly at the sensation as she repeated the movement. "Be good, love, and tell me what you need," she said, wicked delight in her eyes, her small hand running through my chest hair. Every sensation was driving me. I needed to be inside her like a drowning man needs air.

"Raisa...I need...your quim...please..."

"Good boy. Don't worry, your little sister will take care of you," she said, as she led gravity impale her on my cock. Oh gods, it felt better than it ever had. My toes curled and my hands roamed on their own, clutching her hips, running gently over her belly, and squeezing her firm, small breasts.

She moaned as I pinched and tweaked her nipples. I did so harder than normal, because I could feel that was what she wanted, what she needed. I pulled on them in a way that wouldn't have before as my other hand found her clit, gently stroking it with my thumb as she rode me. Her hands gripped my chest suddenly, her eyes taking on a desperate intensity as they locked with mine. I felt her cum again, rolling her hips and rising and falling quickly on my cock. The wet noises she made with each stroke were intoxicating. She rode me out, as wave after wave took her.

As this happened we kept eye contact, as though our souls were bound together. I couldn't hold out any longer and I felt like I exploded within her. The old magic of the Compact lit up between us, and rope after rope of my seed filled her, bathed her quim and mixed with her fluids. It went on and on, even after my cum was spent, I was dimly aware that I was moaning loudly.

Finally, our mutual pleasure ended, both of us panting heavily, eyes locked. Raisa leaned over me and kissed me, this time slowly, languidly, her tongue exploring my mouth. It felt like the final part of the rite, the true sealing of our bond. She was my Wife, and I her Husband, and this was as real a thing as the bed we lay on or the sky far above March Grodayn. This was deep and old magic, and I had been foolish to be dismissive of it. At last I understood why Raisa wished to be First Wife so much.

She rose off of my cock, and this time it was me who made a noise of loss. I loved her so deeply that to be separated was a wound. I knew that I would never be voluntarily apart from Raisa again, and I have not been. She cuddled up to me, placing her head on my chest and her leg over mine. I put my arm around her, protectively, and she made a noise of deep contentment. I stroked her back to help her to fall asleep. My little sister was and is sacred to me.

As I held Raisa in my arms, both of us exhausted, sated, and loved, I understood the good of the Bridal Night. I was glad to have devoted this time to the great love of my life, and as I felt her chest rise and fall against me, I knew that tonight, at least, we were one soul in two bodies. Our child would be special, I thought, if only because of the bond her parents have. We slept like that, and woke once more during the night to make love again, this time languid and gentle, simply facing one another. Thankfully, we were left alone to sleep late into the morning the following day, whiling it away in each others arms.

That very morning the heralds began to announce that Raisa had been declared First Wife. I learned later that the scholars date my rule from that day, rather than my coronation. A man could call himself king, but without his family's support, he was nothing. I had learned that lesson well.

This then, is where I will end my account. The war was over, the greater conflicts resolved. The kingdom was healing and its people ready for peace. A new generation of our family was already being born. 

And, of course, you were finally safe and surrounded by those who loved and cared for you, which is at least as important as anything else.

* * *

The hours and then the days passed. I was king but in truth my wives and I ruled together, as I imagine it must have been in the oldest days, before men like my grandfather tried to make the women their chattel. Artan had his rites in the men's sanctuary, with me as both officiator and witness. His magic responded to the lightning that passed through both of us, and I knew he would be both strong and wise. I wed Merwyd and she, Adewyn, and my mother had their Bridal Nights. The days turned to months. Raisa gave birth to Yula and mother to Wynn and Elaine. You were present for these blessings, as you have helped to care for all of them. The months turned to years. Peace ruled Cymru, though at times uneasily. 

All might end at any time, so I am grateful and give thanks for every day I have with my family, which quite naturally includes you. I leave this to you, that you might know all that happened during the war, and learn from my mistakes. It will be a gift to you, upon your majority, although not the only one.

Whatever else you may learn here and elsewhere about yourself and your family, whatever hate your father and I carried for each other, you are my family, Gwyn, and are loved. Remember this above all else. 

\--Finn

==============================================  
AFTERWORD  
==============================================

First of all, I just wanted to say thank you for coming with me on this journey. Originally I set out to write something that seemed at the time to be almost ridiculously long, a fantasy erotica story with three acts, twenty-seven chapters, and a target of 90,000 words. What you are reading now is much closer to 125,000 words, which is roughly the equivalent of a 500 page paperback novel. I'm humbled that anyone stayed with me for that long, and I hope you found it both satisfying and enjoyable.

Your votes, favorites, as well as respectful comments and feedback have been invaluable to me as both inspiration and as learning tools, and I welcome them now. Please let me know what you thought, and how I could do better. 

Two epilogues follow this. I kept them separate as they are optional to the main story. The first tells of the family's status as of ten years after these events. The second is a very short glimpse of what life is like for the next generation as some of them reach adulthood, roughly eighteen years after these events.

PS - There's one big mystery that I left intentionally open. If you noticed it or wondered about it, good on you. If I ever get to a sequel, the answer will be its key. 

==============================================  
EPILOGUE ONE  
==============================================

The Status of the Royal Family of Cyrmu - Ten Years After the War

There is a great deal to say, and not much time to say it. My family has grown and changed quite a bit, very quickly. I worry about them constantly, fight with them sometimes, but I love them always. 

I am king, undisputed and feared. I do not prefer this reputation, but a man doesn't slay both his brother and his uncle without some complications. It has, however, greatly assisted the Kingdom of Cymru in negotiations and confrontations. The sight in my left eye recovered, in a certain fashion. I can't see out of it the way others do, but can see magic, clear as day. I wear a patch most days, as it can get pretty distracting. I am still known as "Finn the Lusty," much to Raisa's amusement and my consternation. I may have four wives but I am a faithful family man! At least the songs they sing about me are humorous.

Raisa remains First Wife and Spymaster. Nobles in other lands may call me "kinslayer" and accuse me of brutish violence, but they do so quietly, because they fear the Wraith-Queen of Cymru. She uses this reputation but dislikes it as by nature she is still kind and forgiving. When she does strike, it is with great care and precision. She is more beautiful than ever, and I would die for her.

Raisa gave birth to Yula a few months after the war ended, and she is now nine. She was born a bit late, but healthy. As we expected, she is a Weirdling, but we do not conceal it and none of us are ashamed of her. Somewhat more problematically, she developed the ability to call forth gossamer wings of magic before she was a year old. Unlike grandmother, who could just float a bit, Yula flitted like a hummingbird before she could walk. Let me tell you, if you think trying to get an infant to sleep is difficult, try getting one down from the bloody chandelier. She misbehaves but primarily out of insatiable curiosity rather than to cause actual mischief. Her hair is a deep ocean blue and she is regarded as the kingdom's great beauty in high society, although she doesn't let this go to her head and finds it more embarrassing than anything else. Yula and Artan are inseparable, and both of them follow Gwyn around. 

Adewyn got her Bridal Night and I have been careful that she of all of my sisters gets every traditional honor that a wife is entitled to. It would annoy Merwyd and anger Raisa to have to deal with a sudden pilgrimage to an obscure temple in the north, but after I discovered this was the old way to celebrate a fifth anniversary, I knew Adewyn would love it and it remains one of our fondest memories together. She still keeps the military running and me honest. We fight passionately and then we fuck passionately. Our love has not wavered, and she has become known as my right hand and conscience. She has been an excellent mother to both of the children we have together.

Artan is quiet, thoughtful, and sincere. His magic is both excellent and powerful, and his hair has already begun to turn at age ten. He does not throw tantrums nor does he start fights. Unlike his father, he observes and learns prior to acting. He is sometimes intimidated by his mother and I, but has a deep reserve of bravery and wisdom. Others wish for a more warlike king, but he is a fine heir, and is far less arrogant than either I or Tyr. He is exactly as capable with a sword as he is required to be, and to his mother's consternation has no interest in the arts of battle, save that which involves magic. To his mother's pride, he is respectful of all, especially women, and is unquestionably on the path to being a better man than I. I do, however, note that he is the target of many shy smiles and kisses from a variety of girls, which fills me with what his mother deems inappropriate pride. Never mind if she guards her baby boy's heart with the ferocity of a mountain lion. Adewyn is certain that he should be paired with Yula, and I swear that Raisa and her have been planning the wedding since the latter was born.

After a very recent pregnancy that was a bit of a surprise to all of us, Adewyn gave birth to a healthy girl that we named Boudica after a queen of legend. She has not been here long but she is a blessing to all of us, and well liked by our other children. 

I did marry Merwyd, and she is quite happy in her role as Wife. She still sometimes has anxieties about being distrusted and the things she had to do in her past, so perhaps puts a bit too much pressure on Gwyn to behave, but it comes from a place of love. She still always makes time for Octavia, our daughter together, and is a good tutor for all of my children when required. Her primary focus is preparing our Kingdom and Home for the inevitable war with the Armies of Belial, so that our descendants have all the magical weapons that they will need to win. We still feel a deep connection that has only intensified with years of being married and trust. Others suspect that she keeps secrets from me, and that is possible, but only because I don't demand that she tell me everything. Similarly I respect the privacy of my other wives.

Gwyn knows that I killed her father. Merwyd worries that she might carry some lingering resentment towards both of us, and me in particular. I've never seen any sign of it, however, and continue to treat her as my natural daughter. She is a polymath, good at riding, excellent at fighting, and very skilled with magic, especially healing, although not one hair has turned white. When she worries about this I remind her that mine didn't change until I had been an adult for years. Even at the age of fifteen she is expert at questioning the hypocrisies of her elders, including me, which Merwyd disapproves of but her Aunt Adewyn encourages. She has been a bit of a holy terror and a heartbreaker in her teenage years, but then again, so was I. She is possessed of a mixture of passion and resolve which I admire. If the laws were different she would make a fine heir and queen. She also has a bit of a harmless crush on me, but I suspect that will pass with age.

Merwyd later bore me a daughter that we named Octavia after the priest who has been our family's healer and my friend for some time now. It took quite a bit of effort for her to conceive again, not that either of us complained. Octavia has just turned five and is somewhat quiet like Artan, but fae and a bit otherworldly. She sees things that the rest of us do not, which some find unsettling but I think is wonderful. She greatly admires her older siblings and reads voraciously, even at her young age. 

Mother leads all diplomatic efforts, and is publicly my wife. This raised a bit of a stir but neither of us particularly cares. I found an Ironblood from far to the southeast, where he was serving some petty warlord and offered him more money to create and build as he wished. My first commission to him was to animate the miraculous arm of ebony and silver which was her bridal gift. It is almost as dextrous as the original. She still goes to great lengths to keep me satisfied and I end up spending as much time bedding her as I do my sisters. She finds time to take an active role in raising our twins, and is probably the only one besides Bartles that they listen to.

It surprised everyone but me when mother gave birth to Wynn and Elain. They look like us, obviously, with dark hair and strong features. They are a few months younger than Yula and tend to be overly clever pranksters. I have no idea where they get that from. I thank the gods daily for our nanny's efforts at keeping them under control. They would have burned down half the kingdom if not for Bartles. Although I worry, there is nothing but love between Wynn and Artan, and I see no sign of the same poisonous rivalry that I had with Tyr. I will do all I can to ensure that continues by ensuring that no one is denied love. Wynn has taken an interest in the army which pleases Adewyn, and I think he will end up paired with Boudica if not also Octavia. From time to time Raisa catches Elain sneaking into her rooms, and I suspect she wants to be like her favorite aunt when she grows up. Now that I am older and wiser I've noted that she follows Artan around much like Raisa used to with me.

Bartles' remains our nanny, part-time tutor, and friend of myself and my family. Her different style of magic is also invaluable for many reasons. Artan has an entirely understandable crush on her. Her beauty initially led to some suspicion that I was keeping her as a mistress but that is simply untrue.

Parla and Sari are now a permanent part of our army, although we give them latitude as to how they run their company. We've hired a great deal of talent from the continent through them, including quite a few Karrash, who Merwyd assures me will be invaluable should we ever have to face the likes of Belial's Army ever again.

Caliban remains by my side, but she has been "introduced" to all of my children. She has good relationships with all, but most definitely prefers to be held by my sons. In as much as an intelligent spear can, I believe that she has designs on Artan. Merwyd jokes and calls Caliban my "fifth wife," which amuses her to no end.

General, now Duchess Kyrza has been elevated to the lesser nobility, and her daughter stands to inherit good lands in the south that were left empty after the war. She remains our loyal servant and Adewyn's good friend.

There has been no further demonic incursion since Bayrd made his infamous agreement. We do not let our guard down.

Order of Birth for Finn's Children and Relative Ages as of Ten Years After the Succession War of Cymru

Gwyn (f, adopted by Finn, birth parents Merwyd and Tyr) - 15

Artan (m, Adewyn) - 10

Yula (f, Raisa) - 9

Wynn (m, Syrlin) and Elaine (f, Syrlin) - 8 (close to 9)

Octavia (f, Merwyd) - 5

Boudica (f, Adewyn) - 6 months

==============================================  
EPILOGUE TWO  
==============================================

Eighteen Years After the War

Gwyn

I woke up, feeling a bit hung over, but that wasn't really a surprise given how much wine I'd had last night. What was a surprise was the man sleeping next to me.

"Ari, oh for fucks sake, wake up. We can't let your mom or mine find us here. We're not supposed to be..."

My lovely cousin made a noise like a dying boar and then rolled over. Gods dammit.

"Wake up, you lazy fucking bastard," I said, with heat if not precisely affection. I hit him on the head.

"Ow. Gods dammit, Gwyn, what the fuck?"

"How did you end up here, again?" I asked, annoyed.

He just laughed. It would have been more annoying if he didn't do it a great deal like his father. Well, that was one of the things he did like his father...

"I'm fairly certain it had something to do with you dragging me in here promising to 'ride me until my balls were as dry as the desert,' fair cousin."

Fuck. That did sound like me. Drunk me, anyway. 

"Seriously, you have to go. You know you aren't supposed to be...with me. I'm not your sister and both of our mothers have forbidden it. And to be honest Aunt Adewyn terrifies me when she's angry."

He rolled over to face me, his white hair flashing in the sunlight. Goddammit, why did he have to be so cute right now? He had an oddly intense look to him.

"No. I mean, yes, I'll go, because you asked. But I don't like that rule and I won't follow it. I know why, but I don't care. I care for you. And who are you supposed to fuck, anyway? You're beautiful. And perfectly healthy and what, you're just supposed to live like a temple maiden? No. It's bullshit and I'm talking to father about it."

Oh...oh god no. I did not want that conversation to take place. But...I knew that he loved me. I loved him as well, even if I had trouble saying it. He was raised as my brother. His father had adopted me. So why couldn't we lay together? The answer was tradition and he was unmarried and probably the heir and ugh. It was always tradition and purity of lineage in a Pureblood family. Always.

And his mother had wanted him to wait until Yula came of age in a few months. She was supposed to have been his first. And she loved him, and he did care for her dearly. But he was a man! He had immediate needs and he...he just said I was beautiful, didn't he? 

"Say that again."

"What?" he said, confused, "That it's bullshit?"

"No...that I'm beautiful."

"Oh come off it Gwyn. You know you are, you don't have to hear it from me."

"Puh-leeaasssee?"

He sighed, but he looked at me, again intensely. Gods his ice-blue eyes made me melt.

"Gwyn, you're the most beautiful woman I know. I love how you look like this, naked in the sunlight. I love the way the light flares off of your hair and reflects in your eyes. Your breasts are perfect, with just the right upturn and bounce. Your ass is...its magnificent. I get hard just being near you, and catching your scent makes me forget what I was doing. Happy?"

Yes. Happy was a word I could use to describe how I was feeling. Horny was also a good word. I jumped him, kissing him as though I might devour him, my hands finding his tight behind and pulling it into me. His cock was...oh god so hard, and trapped under my belly. It twitched as my hands ran over his back. We...we were so good for each other. And we were so closely related, not even really cousins, our parents were all siblings. Purebloods even had a word for it, "half-blood marriage". If only our mothers weren't so damn conservative. Raisa wouldn't have cared one whit. And of course I'd share Artan with Yula...I mean, our mothers had prepared herself for such situations as soon as we were able to understand Pureblood relationships.

And it isn't as though I'd never kissed Yula, either.

For now though, I continued to kiss Artan as I knew he liked. Deep and intense, then upon his finely muscled chest and down his body. By the time I reached it, his cock was hard as a rock. I slipped it into my mouth as I looked up at him. I saw my love for him reflected in his eyes. His taste was indescribable to me. Even then it was like the epitome of manliness to me, and it aroused me to have it on my tongue. I started out with quick strokes and worked the bottom half with my hand. He moaned my name, which turned me on even more. 

As I took him into my throat I began to finger myself, roughly. I couldn't believe how wet I was already. I was sore in places which meant that I had probably been well fucked last night, and Artan wasn't one to leave me unsatisfied. He entwined his fingers in my hair but not harshly. Nothing he did was harsh, although he would fuck me hard if I asked.

"Gwyn, that feels so good. And you look so beautiful like this."

Hearing those words made my mouth and fingers speed up. I moaned with him in my throat. I felt his hands pulling me off of his cock and I whimpered, confused, but he pulled me up his body and kissed me again. I knew what he wanted. I got on top of him and put his fine cock, still wet with my saliva, at my entrance. 

"I'd be happy if this was the only cock I had for the rest of my life."

I let gravity pull me down on him, enveloping him. My interior muscles held him and his cock twitched inside me.

"Oh, fuck. Gwyn...you feel so good. Like the first time we fucked, its always like this. You're perfect."

"I love the things you say when you're inside me, Artan." 

I began to move up and down, letting his cock fill me and leave me, moaning louder and louder. His hands gripped my waist tightly and he began to assist moving me up and then pulling me back down. I rolled my hips in the way he liked, and he rewarded me with another deep groan, and we both sped up. He reached out rather suddenly with his left thumb and stimulated my clitoris directly. I jumped a little and stopped, distracted.

I looked down at him and he was staring at me, his eyes hungry, his smile like a wolf. His father's smile. 

I didn't have time to complete that thought before he rolled me over with surprising strength. Before I knew it he had my thighs spread wide and my arms pinned above my head. I was powerless underneath him as he ravished my neck and breasts with his mouth. Gods I loved it when he did that. Then he started fucking me, really fucking me.

"Artan, I can't..oh fuck I'm going to..."

I came, much faster than I expected. Harder, too. He was getting better at pleasuring me, at understanding my moods and needs. As he plunged into me mercilessly, over and over, my orgasm crashed down on me. It took me and made me shudder deep inside, arch and clench, made it hard to breathe and impossible to think. That's probably why I said what I did.

"Gods, Artan, I love you..."

It was in a breath, not a shout, but he heard it. I know that he did because he locked eyes with me in surprise, and then started cumming immediately. Gods he looked amazing when he came. I felt his warmth rush inside me, and it was like he said he loved me back. I was happy to be taking Bride's Bane, because I was sure that otherwise he would have gotten me with child. 

We looked at each other, panting heavily, both of us understanding that I'd crossed a line that neither of us had intended to. This was supposed to be fun, perhaps only a distraction for him until Yula came of age. It was much more than that for me, although I tried to keep that concealed. If I was lucky I could end up as his concubine, maybe. If not, I'd just be on the outside looking in at him and Wynn, unable to be anything for either or them. I didn't want to fill Artan with guilt over something that wasn't his fault.

Then he kissed me, deeply and passionately. He released my hands so he could hold my head gently and I wrapped mine around his neck. We'd never kissed like this before, and we'd kissed in a lot of ways. This reminded me of the way Finn kissed Raisa when both of them thought that no one was looking. This one said a lot more than my unintentional words ever could have. My eyes were moist when we were done and I'm sure I had a dumb smile on my face.

Unfortunately, in our reverie, we failed to notice the door to my room opening. I'm not even sure that I had locked it last night.

"Gods, I knew it. I knew I'd find you here. You two are going to mire this family in disgrace."

Aunt Adewyn and my mother stood there, both with grim expressions on their faces.

This wasn't good. Both of our mothers. Both of them. And I saw in Artan's eyes that he'd finally had enough. He was slow to anger but once he did he was as bad as his mother. He'd be fighting with Aunt Adewyn this time, somehow he'd grown up without being afraid of her, god knows how. Maybe he was like Finn and just didn't have a strong survival instinct.

"Get up, Artan. You're done spending time with Gwyn. You've done enough."

"No," he said, softly, but firmly. 

"Artan," I started, "don't make things worse for yourself. This is my fau..."

"I'm not asking," Adewyn said, in her dangerously quiet fashion, "I'm telling you, this is how it's going to be. You and Gwyn are done. Over. If it means we have to be cruel and separate you, so be it. You can't be trusted to do the right thing on your own."

"No," Artan insisted, "we won't be separated. You may be my mother, but you're both being hypocrites, and you must know it. I'm not leaving Gwyn behind because she has the wrong father. That's not what father would do and I'm not doing it."

"Gods dammit son, you know it isn't that simple. It's bad enough that she was your first, but to carry on like this despite our pleading and our warnings... And frankly, your father has nothing to do with this. He may be the king but he isn't your mother, and he makes mistakes."

For a moment, things were quiet. Artan and Adewyn glaring at each other. I looked over at my mother, expecting her typical style of cutting words. However, she looked too busy to really tear into me the way I could tell that she wanted.

"Get dressed, girl. Your king has summoned you."

Oh.

That didn't sound good. I shared a brief look with Artan as I got dressed in uncomfortable silence and as we closed the door behind us we heard the argument restart.

* * *

Mother said that she didn't know why Finn wanted to see me, which made me both suspicious and nervous. Adewyn and Artan had still been shouting at each other when we'd left, however, so it was probably safer to be in his office right now.

"Be respectful," she insisted as we walked down the broad halls, which I suppose was understandable given my reputation, but I still chafed at it, "he doesn't dislike you but if he believes you've been disloyal or god help us Raisa said something to him, he might want to exile you or similar. It isn't fair but it's the price you pay for being my daughter. And being so willful. Speaking of which we'll talk about your unacceptable relationship later."

"There's nothing to say about that, mother. We love each other. I don't know how you and Aunt Adewyn can be....so cold to the idea of us."

"I don't want you to be apart. I truly don't. But there is more at stake than simple love. Gods I hate all of this. Artan must be viewed as legitimate. He must be regarded to be absolutely and completely pure and unquestionable, because of recent events. And for similar reasons you must not be regarded as a threat to any succession. Just because Finn doesn't agree with us doesn't mean we're wrong. For gods' sake even Aunt Syrlin agrees with us, and she's normally all about forbidden love."

I laughed, despite myself. Mother smiled.

"But...he needs someone, mother. And so do I. I don't know what things were like for you. I never will. I just...I know I love him and before him I was unbearably alone. And to have him torn from me and given to another, even Yula. I just...I don't know if I could stand it."

Mother stopped and looked at me. Really looked. For a moment, I saw genuine sadness in her eyes.

"I'll do whatever I can to keep your separation as brief as possible. We all know Yula doesn't mind you as fellow-wife. If Artan claims her as soon as she's of age, then, hopefully, Adewyn will concede."

As usual, she thought she knew best. Internally I was so angry at how wrong she was. Still, after all this time she thought she had to prove her loyalty and that I was simply a rebellious girl. Didn't she know that almost everyone, herself excluded, went through a troublesome phase? Didn't she understand that Finn had never judged me except by my actions, and had forgiven all of my youthful insults? I suppose only I knew how Finn felt about me.

She should have known that, but, I admitted, she couldn't have known the rest. And I never wanted her to. 

Mother accompanied me to the room where Finn did all his administrative work and saw petitioners. She wouldn't go in with me, which made me anxious. Despite her worries, he trusted her. Worse, Aunt Raisa was waiting outside as well, and everyone knew that she was by his side for almost all of his meetings, even if you couldn't see her. If anyone loved Finn more than my mother, it was her. She smiled at me and I smiled back. I was still quite close to her and I saw concern in her eyes. It's always a bad sign when the Wraith-Queen of Cymru feels worried for you.

I opened the door and Finn waved me in impatiently, while finishing scrawling something down on a piece of paper with his other hand. I closed the door behind me and sat down. The room was really nothing but a desk with writing supplies, and places for about five people to sit, and of course a beautiful view of the valley and lake just outside of home. People said that he had jumped into that lake from the men's sanctuary years ago to escape being murdered by my father. It seems in character for both of them, but I've never asked.

He looked up at me and smiled. I felt the butterflies in my stomach act up. Even in a Pureblood family there are rules. You aren't supposed to be in love with your adopted father and uncle, not really. You might end up laying with him, but you save your heart for your brothers. And you really weren't supposed to fall in love with the man who killed your actual father, even if he was a hateful bastard who liked to hit you. Most especially, you weren't supposed to be jealous of your own mother.

I hadn't been with Finn in years, and I was true to Artan, but you can't just kill your feelings, unfortunately.

I guess I was breaking all kinds of rules. Finn saw the worry in my face and tried to console me, even if he didn't really understand the turmoil that I was feeling.

"You're not in trouble, unless you want to be," he said.

I smiled, despite myself, and felt my face grow hot. Was he implying that he wanted me again? Doubtful, but a girl can hope.

"What I mean is," he continued, dashing my hopes, "that I need someone to undergo a task for me. You'd be perfect for it, and part of the reason why is that everyone thinks that you despise me and that I distrust you."

"I don't hate you!" I said, a little too quickly.

"And I trust you with my life, never doubt my love for you," he said. Why did he have to say things like that? It wasn't fair.

"But...if I were to leave, suddenly...people would just assume that I was fed up and ran away. Or that I was fleeing justice? Is that it?"

He smiled very widely now.

"Exactly," he agreed, "and Artan would have to be in on it, as your affair with him would be rumored to be the cause of your exile."

"Is my relationship with him really that well known?" I said, without thinking. Fortunately Finn just chuckled.

"It's the worst kept secret in the castle that you two are sleeping together."

"Gods, and here I thought we were being subtle."

Never mind that we were deeply in love.

"I sympathize with you," Finn said, as if reading my thoughts, "but I do think separation would be wise, at least for a time. Also it would give you some time to meet other people and decide if being bound to Artan is what you really want. Your position as cousin may seem to close doors but it opens them as well..." Finn trailed off. That wasn't like him.

"Are you saying you want me to marry someone from outside of the family?" Hearing this from Finn was like being rejected twice. 

"No, of course not. But consider your mother. She was always going to be with one of us, no matter what. You might be with Artan, but you'll be sharing him with at least two other wives, most likely. That isn't for anyone."

"Mother never complained about being with you. Neither did I."

He blinked. It was dirty of me, to remind him that he was my first. There was no one else for me, though, and...and it was wonderful while it lasted.

"I don't regret it, Gwyn," he said, "and I never will. But I let it go on too long. You know I did."

"You treated me like a wife but wouldn't marry me. That's what made mother angry. When you decided to let me go, it broke my heart, but I understood. Then Artan and I found each other. Now mother and Adewyn want that to end too. There's no place for me here."

He sighed.

"There is, I think. I adopted you for a reason. Go complete this task for me, take time to think. Have some fun on the continent. When you get back things will have changed, I think. Even if they haven't I'll support you if you still want to be with Artan."

"And if he doesn't want me anymore?" I said, with a slight tremble in my voice.

"You underestimate your effect on him. Or men in general. Trust me. When I saw your mother after five years it was as though no time at all had passed for us."

Finn didn't talk about their separation much and neither did mother. I sighed.

"All right. What would my king have me do?"

He smiled.

"Good, so, the short version of what I will be asking is to deliver a series of messages to royals in several nations on the continent, not just the Purebloods, but the Sanguid dynasties as well. Half of the message will be contained in letters and the other half will secretly be memorized, by you. No-one, not your mother, not Raisa or even Artan, will know about the secret portion of the message. That is to be shared only with a monarch or their heir, directly."

"Gods. This must be important. What is this about?"

He sighed and looked at me for a long time. I grew uncomfortable, but something in me loved the way he studied me. I knew he found me appealing. He had proven that to me before. At last he spoke.

"Has anyone ever told you about the Journey?"

* * *

The explanation was long and he had to stop occasionally and relate it to his experiences during the Succession War, from many years ago. I mostly remembered it as a fun camping trip with some very frightening moments. Oh to be a child again.

We'd just reached the point where I had been asking questions when our conversation was interrupted by the door opening and slamming against the wall. Aunt Adewyn came in like a beautiful storm cloud, her eyes flashing like lightning. I jumped up and went around the desk to stand behind Finn. Just in case. Fortunately she wasn't angry at me. Artan followed her in, Aunt Raisa close behind.

"Bartles!" she shouted.

"Bartles?" Finn said, confused. How was he so calm? I suppose that they'd been married for a long time, but still.

"Bartles! That's who your son gave himself to first. Not a family member at all. Gwyn would have been bad enough, although completely understandable. And with only months until Yula reaches her majority! Your son has insulted both of them!"

Well, I had been upgraded from "unacceptable" for her son to "bad enough, but completely understandable". I wasn't sure if I should have been insulted or pleased. Raisa looked vaguely unhappy as well, but it was hard to imagine her being upset at violations of tradition, being that she was the least traditional First Wife in all of Cymru's history. Of course, she was probably thinking of her daughters feelings. Come to think of it...

"Bartles?" I said, as it finally processed in my mind, cutting Finn and Adwyn off abruptly, "You fucked our nanny first? Before me or Yula? Really? And you never told me? Why the hell not?! I thought I was special! Was I just a good time?"

I guess I also had a bit of a temper, but can you blame me? He just got done telling me how beautiful I was, and I just told him that I loved him. I couldn't believe that he let me think that I was his first. Don't get me wrong, I liked her. Hell, I loved her like a second mother, but...ugh. There were only two men in our generation and one wouldn't reach his majority for a number of years still. We couldn't have Artan spreading his seed with a Wyldblood. I, er, we had needs!

Artan looked as though he wished that he could disappear into a crack in thew all and I suddenly felt very badly for him. I got angry quickly but I calmed down quickly too. I wouldn't hold a grudge.

Mostly.

Finn cleared his throat. He looked as though he was questioning the merits of having a large family.

"All right, everyone out," he said, softly but firmly, "except Artan and Gwyn. I have words for both of you."

Adewyn looked like she was about to protest, but she closed her mouth and left with Raisa. Only Finn could do that, and even then only rarely. When the door shut everything was eerily quiet.

"You know," he started, looking at his son, "I always thought you were smarter than I was. What in the name of all the gods possessed you to tell your mother, the self-appointed guardian of all Pureblood tradition, that Bartles was your first?"

Finn didn't look surprised in the least. I wondered if he had known.

"Uh, well. Mother just kept telling me who was and was not appropriate, and talked about how Gwyn was an unacceptable first for me and that until I was married properly we'd have to be separated. Then she said that Gwyn could never be a wife to me, 'only a concubine,' and I got mad and....well...it just slipped out."

"More like it just slipped in," I said under my breath, "you dog."

Everyone stayed silent for a moment, then Finn laughed at my inappropriate joke. Soon we were all laughing. 

It's hard to believe, looking back, how much my life changed after that day. I'd be on the continent in weeks and it was the last I'd see Artan for months. By the end of the day we'd have agreed that it would be best to break up at least temporarily, so I wouldn't have to act like a temple maiden on my trip while he stayed comfortable at home and bedded Yula. I'd feel lost, cut off, but also, for the first time, free. I also knew that I would return to Finn, my aunts, mother, brothers, and sisters. This was where I belonged.

Things were complicated here. Sometimes we disagreed or fought. Sometimes we were separated. But we always came back together. After all, in the end, we were family.


End file.
